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DRAMAS, COMEDIES, 
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M. F. 

Aaron Boggs, Freshman, 3 

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As a Woman Thinketh, 3 acts, 

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At the End of the Rainbow, 3 

acts, 2^ hrs (25c) 6 14 

Bank Cashier, 4 acts, 2 hrs. 

(25c) ...' 8 4 

Black Heifer, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 

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Brookdale Farm, 4 acts, 2J4 

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Brother Josiah, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 

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Burns Rebellion, 1 hr (25c) 8 5 

Busy Liar, 3 acts, 2J4 hrs. 

(25d) 7 4 

College Town, 3 acts, 2^ 

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Corner Drug Store, 1 hr. 

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Danger Signal, 2 acts, 2 hrs.. 7 4 
Daughter of the Desert, 4 

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Down in Dixie, 4 acts, 2 14 

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Dream That Came True, 3 

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Editor-in-Chief, 1 hr....(25c) 10 
Enchanted Wood, 1^4 h.(35c).Optnl. 
Everyyouth, 3 acts, 1^ hrs. 

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Face at the Window, 3 acts, 2 

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Fascinators, 40 min (25c) 13 

Fun on the Podunk Limited, 

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High School Freshman, 3 acts, 

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Indian Days, 1 hr (50c) 5 2 

In Plum Valley, 4 acts, 2^ 

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Iron Hand, 4 acts, 2 hrs.. (25c) 5 4 
Jayville Junction, 1*^ hrs. (2 jc) 14 17 
Kingdom of Heart's Content, 3 

acts, 214 hrs (25c) 6 12 

Lexington, 4 acts, 2Ji h..(25c) 9 4 



M. F. 

Light Brigade, 40 min (2jc) 10 

Little Buckshot, 3 acts, 2J4 hrs. 

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Lodge of Kye Tyes^ 1 hr.(25c)13 
Lonelyville Social (I^lub, 3 acts, 

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Man from Borneo, 3 acts, 2 

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Man from Nevada, 4 acts, 2% 

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Mirandy's Minstrels. . . . (25c) Optnl, 
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Old Oaken Bucket, 4 acts, 2 

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Old School at Hick'ry Holler, 

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On the Little Big Horn, 4 acts, 

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Out in the Streets, 3 acts, 1 hr. 6 4 
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Rustic Romeo, 2 acts, 2^ 

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School Ma'am, 4 acts, 1^4 hrs. 6 5 
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Southern Cinderella, 3 acts, 2 

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Under the Laurels, 5 acts, 2 hrs. 6 4 
When the Circus Came to 

Town, 3 acts, 2^ hrs. (25c) 5 3 
Women Who Did, 1 hr. .. (25c) 17 
Yankee Detective, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 8 3 

FARCES, COMEDIETAS. Etc. 

April Fools, 30 min 3 

Assessor, The, 10 min 3 2 

Baby Show at Pineville, 20 min. 19 

Bad Job, 30 min 3 2 

Betsy Baker, 45 min 2 2 

Billy's Chorus Girl, 25 min... 2 3 

Billy's Mishap, 20 min. ...... 2 3 

Borrowed Luncheon, 20 min.. 5 

Borrowing Trouble, 20 min.... 3 5 

Box and Cox, 35 min 2 1 

Case Against Casey, 40 min... 23 

Convention of Papas, 25 min.. 7 

Country Justice, 15 min 8 

Cow that Kicked Chicago, 20 m. 3 2 



T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers, 1 54 W. Randolph St., Chicago 



THE GOODFELLOW 



A COMEDY-DRAMA IN THREE ACTS 



BY 



HARRY L. NEWTON 

AUTHOR OF 

"Breakfast Food for Two," "A Bundle of Burnt Cork Comedy," "The Coming 
Champion," "The Coontown Thirteen Club," "The Corner Drug Store," 
"The Counterfeit Bills," "A Dutch_ Cocktail," "Five Minutes from Yell 
College," "The Heiress of Hoetow'n," "The Little Red School House," 
"Laughland, Via the Ha Ha Route," "Marriage and After," 
"Oshkosh Next Week," "The Pooh Bah of Feacetown," 
"The Rest Cure," "Si and I," "A Sunny Son of 
- Italy," "The Troubles of Rosinski," "Two Jay 
Detectives," "Uncle Bill at the Vaude- 
ville" and "When the Circus 
Came to Town." 




CHICAGO 

T. S. DENISON & COMPANY 

Publishers 



THE GOODFELLOW 



ft 



CHARACTERS. <"[^\/ 

John Dawson a Goodfellow 

Stubbie Stebbins A Young Reporter 

Old Man Hudson A Mysterious Philanthropist 

Steve Bacon a Detective 

Richard Meadows A Private Banker 

Jerome Woodstock An Attorney 

Capt. Richards Of Police Headquarters 

Henry Madison A Shiftless Husband 

Jane His Daughter 

Mrs. Madison Her Invalid Mother 

Dora Woodruff Young and Impressionable 

Martha Peck Old and Invulnerable 



Act I — Henry Madison's Home. Evening. 

Act II — Same. Next' Morning. 

Act III — Captain Richards' Office. Afternoon, same day. 



Time — The Present. 



FLACE—Rushville, a Thriving Town in . the Middle West. 



Time of Flaying— About Tzvo Hours and Thirty Minutes. 



NOTICE: — Amateur performance of this play may be given 
on payment to the Publishers of a royalty of five dollars ($5.00) 
for each performance. All acting rights are strictly reserved and 
consent to present it can be obtained only from the Publishers. 



copyright, 1914, BY EBEN H. NORRIS. 
2 

^^'^ 22/9/4 ©CI.D 357as 



THE GOODFELLOW. 



SYNOPSIS FOR PROGRAM. 

Act I — Introducing the shiftless father and the industri- 
ous daughter. Miss Peck voices her candid opinion of Mr. 
Madison. "Something seems to tell me that that woman 
don't like me." The accusation. "Only two knew the com- 
bination — and folks don't generally rob themselves !" The 
weird sound of the walking stick. "Ugh ! He gives me the 
'creeps'." The arrival of the Mysterious Philanthropist — 
also of Stubbie. Old Man Hudson pays his board in ad- 
vance. The stroke of the eyebrow. Stubbie is puzzled. 
"Sometime, somewhere, I've seen that same thing before." 
Miss Peck has a most thrilling adventure. The flight of 
John and the arrival of Detective Bacon. The search. "Mr. 
Stebbins, you're a great little liar !" 

Act II — The invalid mother and the sympathetic daugh- 
ter. "Mother, dear, I'm going to smile and be brave, too — 
just as you did !" The Mysterious Philanthropist astounds 
Miss Peck. "He's given me fifteen thousand dollars !" De- 
tective Bacon comes to report his capture and to gloat. But, 
somehow, he hasn't the heart to do it. Stubbie remembers 
the time, the place and the man. "I'm in a hurry!" Mr. 
Meadows proposes marria§"e. The sound of the walking 
stick again. Old Man Hudson politely removes Mr. Mead- 
ows. The stroke of the eyebrow. 

Act III — Captain Richards prepares his Third Degree 
arrangements. "Where's Stebbins?" "Last report I gits on 
him, he's doin' a marathon — with no hat on." Mr. Mead- 
ows is cross-examined. "I believe you cooked this thing up 
to get Dawson in bad with the girl." The hundred dollar 
bill. The Captain tries the Third Degree on John. "Where 
did you get this one hundred dollar bill?" "Captain, your 
Third Degree stuff works like magic. I'll sign a confession 
any time you say." The Captain catches a tartar in Miss 
Peck. Stebbins. still missing. "Where did Old Man Hudson 
get the bill?" Captain Richards forces Miss Woodruff to 
repeat Stubbie's last words — and she does. The Captain 
questions Old Man Hudson. The arrival of Stubbie. "Stop 



4 THE GOODFELLOW. 

that man, Bacon !" Mr. Stebbins shows that he "knows what 
he knows." The stroke of the eyebrow. "That's what put 
me wise." The passing of the wig" and beard. Mr. Mead- 
ows recognizes a lost relative — and concludes not to prose- 
cute. The final sound of the walking stick. "Sometimes 
you can wink at the law and get away with it. Here's 
where I wink." 



STORY OF THE PLAY. 

The scene of "The Goodfellow" is laid in Rushville, a 
metropolis in the Middle West. Jane Madison, a young 
and beautiful girl, is burdened with the task of caring for 
an invalid mother and handicapped by a shiftless father. 
To "make both ends meet" she "takes in" two boarders, 
Martha Peck, a lady of uncertain years, and Old Man 
Hudson. The latter is soon looked upon as a man of mys- 
tery, on account of his peculiar actions. 

The night before the opening scene the safe of Richard 
Meadows has been rifled of $20,000 and securities. Suspi- 
cion points to John Dawson, Meadows' confidential clerk, 
as being the thief, and a warrant is sworn out for his arrest. 
Jane is John's sweetheart and he comes to bid her good- 
bye, having decided that flight was the best way out of it 
all. Detective Bacon arrives as John' is kissing her good-by, 
but is hindered from taking John owing to intervention of 
Stubbie, a newspaper reporter, and Hudson, and John es- 
capes. Hudson has a peculiar habit of stroking his eye- 
brows, which attracts the attention of Stubbie, and who is 
puzzled by it, declaring to Dora, his sweetheart, that in 
time gone by he has seen the same thing and under some- 
what exciting circumstances. 

Dawson is captured the next moning and Detective Bacon 
comes to the Madison home to impart the information and 
gloat over his victory. But Jane, in her struggle to bear 
up under adverse circumstances, arouses his sympathy, and 
he tells her that he will be her friend. 

Stubbie now connects the stroke of the eyebrow with the 



THE GOODFELLOW. 5 

pest, and suddenly dashes away from Dora, leaving her in 
a bewildered state of mind, as he offers her no explanation. 

The scene now shifts to Captain Richard's office, where 
we find him preparing to "solve the mystery." He declares 
that he has a hunch that Stebbins can clear the thing up, 
but no' one seems to know where h.e can be found. The 
Captain calls in the members of the Madison household, 
also Meadows and Dawson. At first the Captain is inclined 
to the belief that Meadows has ''framed" to get Dawson 
"in bad" with Jane, so that he (Meadows) can marry her 
himself. Later developments, however, point to Dawson, 
and finally to Hudson as being, each in turn, the guilty 
party, and Captain Richards attempts to fasten the crime 
on the latter, but his efforts are futile. He is about to release 
Hudson when Stubbie dashes in with the astounding decla- 
ration that Hudson is no less a personage than one Blinkie 
Bowers, known in police circles as the "philanthropist 
crook." He verifies his accusation by jerking off Hudson's 
v/ig and beard, disclosing him to be a prepossessing young 
man of thirty. Stubbie has "burned the wires" to cinch his 
suspicion, first aroused by Hudson's habit of stroking his 
eyebrows. 

Hudson calmly admits the accusation and Meadows sim- 
ultaneously makes the discovery that Hudson, alias Blinkie 
Bowers, is his own nephew, a man he hates and fears above 
everything in all the world. Meadows demands the arrest 
of his nephew, charging him with the robbery of his safe. 
Hudson, however, unseen by the others, takes a package 
of old letters from his pocket and dares the old man to 
prosecute him, making the suggestion that he (Meadows) 
had made a mistake and that he lost no money. Meadows, v 
at sight of the letters, declares to the assembled ones that 
he was mistaken — that he lost no money — then goes from 
the room a broken man. 

Stubbie surreptitiously asks Hudson what pressure he 
brought to bear on Meadows to make him forget the loss 
of $20,000, and Hudson shows him the letters, telling Stub- 
bie that their contents would, if made public, send Meadows 
to prison. 



6 THE GOODFELLOW. 

Hudson, alias Blinkie Bowers, is allowed to go, Stubbie 
having proved to Captain Richards that he was ''not wanted" 
by the police in any city. 

John declares that he is no longer proud of being called 
a Goodfellow, a term he has acquired by his congenial and 
convivial habits, and will thereafter stick to the ''straight 
and narrow," having had his lesson. 

Captain Richards is firmly convinced that Hudson stole 
Meadows' money, but declares to Stubbie that once in a 
while one can "wink at the law and get away with it." 



CHARACTERS AND COSTUMES. 

Dawson — Young man of about twenty-five, handsome 
and modest. He wears ordinary business suit, light over- 
coat and soft hat in first act and neat gray suit in third act. 

Stebbins — Young man of twenty-seven or eight, short 
and fat. He wears nifty clothing throughout. He is good- 
hearted and impulsive, deeply in love with Dora, and is the 
kind of a chap to "go the limit" for a friend. 

Old Man Hudson — In first two acts he appears to be a 
man of about sixty, wearing white wig and beard and 
spectacles. In third act, when his disguise is thrown of¥ by 
Stubbie, he is disclosed as a man of about thirty. He wears 
dark clothing throughout and carries a heavy walking stick. 
His habit of stroking an eyebrow must be done in a pro- 
nounced manner and peculiarly. As he enters each, time he 
throws a quick, suspicious glance all about and is altogether 
a "man of mystery," but a likable man, gains the sympathy 
of the audience at his first appearance and maintains it. 

Bacon — A regulation "plain clothes" man of about thirty. 
He walks with a heavy tread and is illiterate in speech. 

Meadows — Old man of about sixty-five, wears rusty black 
clothes and is miser-like in appearance and actions. Wears 
snow white wig, and is smoothly shaven. 

Woodstock — Man of about forty-five, fat and with a 
doleful cast of countenance. Wears black clothing, tight 



THE GOODFELLOW. 7 

trousers and a much-the-worse-for-wear silk hat, which he 
continually brushes with palm of hand. 

Richards — Squat, heavy-set man of about fifty, with 
iron-gray hair and smoothly shaven face, highly colored to 
give effect of former out-of-door life. He speaks with a 
slight trace of an Irish brogue, is brusque, kindly and whim- 
sical, but above all a police captain. Wears regulation police 
captain's uniform. 

Madison — Old man of about sixty, shiftless regarding 
clothing and action ; speaks slowly and with a slight Yankee 
drawl. 

Jane — A handsome young woman of twenty-three, ca- 
pable of emotion or gayety as the occasion may require. 
Wears simple but pretty dresses throughout. 

Mrs. Madison — A sweet looking old lady of about fifty- 
five. Her only appearance is in Act H, during which she 
wears a lounging robe, trimmed with lace. 

Dora — A pretty, vivacious girl of eighteen. Wears pretty 
costumes throughout. 

Martha — Maiden lady of uncertain age. Has a sweet 
disposition, but a sharp tongue at times. Not a burlesque 
''Old Maid" part, but can be played that way if so desired. 

All characters on returning from outdoors should wear 
overcoats, wraps, gloves, etc., as it is late fall. 



LIST OF PROPERTIES. 

Act I — Plate of apples; newspaper; revolver, not to be 
fired; a bottle containing dark colored fluid and a piece of 
paper money. 

Act II — Check book and fountain pen for Hudson and a 
piece of fancy sewing for Martha. 

Act III — Desk telephone, pen, ink and paper; cigar box 
containing two cigars ; same piece of paper money as used 
in Act I ; package of letters for Hudson and telegram for 
Stubbie. 



THE GOODFELLOW. 



STAGE SETTING. 



/ 



Door 
Kitchen 



I 



Acts I and II. 



Door I 
Street ' \I 



/-vRocking q 



Door ^-^ Chair 

Martha's Room 

_I 



China Closet 
O O 

O 



o o 

Table and Chairs 



-iWlndow 



^ 



Door 
Parlor 



Sofa 



\3 Door 
Mother's Room 

i_ 



/ 



Door 



L 



Acts III. 

— iWlndowl 



O 



o 



o 



Desk and Chairs 



Y 



Door 



1 



STAGE DIRECTIONS. 



R., means right of stage ; C, center ; R. C, right center ; 
L., left; R. D., right door; L. D., left door, etc.; 1 E., first 
entrance ; U. E., upper entrance ; R. 3 E., right entrance 
upstage, etc. ; D. F., door in flat or scene running back of 
the stage; upstage, away from footlights; downstage, near 
footlights ; 1 G., first groove, etc. The actor is supposed to 
be facing the audience. 



THE GOODFELLOW 



Act I. 

Scene: Combination living and dining-room in Henry 
Madison^s home, boxed in 3d grooves. Exterior backing 
in 4th grooves. Practical door R. C. in flat and window 
L. C. Practical doors R. 2 E. and R. 3 E. and L. 2 E. and 
L. 3 E. Dining table covered with white cloth, down C. 
Four or five cane seat chairs are shoved underneath table. 
Large rocking chair R. C. Sofa L. C. China closet C. 
against flat, also halltree. Other furniture and pictures on 
walls, bric-a-brac, etc., to give the effect of an old-fash- 
ioned home of people once affluent, but now in straitened 
circumstances. 

Jane and Henry discovered at rise. He, comfortably 
ensconsed in rocking chair R. C, reading newspaper, while 
Jane is engaged setting table for supper. She goes back 
and forth from china closet to table, abstractedly humming 
a rather mournful air. Her face is pale and she wears a 
plain black dress, with white collar, cuffs and small apron. 
She passes back and forth three times before Henry''s first 
speech^ then — 

Henry {lowering paper and glowering over its top at 
her, then pompously clears throat before speaking. Ir- 
ritably). Jane, I do wish to goodness you wouldn't hum 
that funeral dirge. You irritate me so I can't read. {Lays 
down paper and polishes glasses with red bandana.) 

Jane {passively). Very well, father. {Arranges dishes 
and silver about table, in abstracted' manner.) 

Henry {watches her in critical silence for an instant). 
Jane ! 

Jane {pausing in her task, a plate in one hand, expec- 
tantly). Yes? 

Henry. There appears to be a want of energy in your 
actions of late. You seem to lack ambition. . 



10 THE GOODFELLOW. 

Jane. Ambition ! {Laughs mirthlessly, then plate slips 
from her hand to table ; stares stonily into space.) 

Henry {irritably) . And please, young lady, don't bang 
the dishes so. You get on my nerves ! 

Jane {looking sadly at him). Father, you should be the 
last person in the world to chide me, especially for any 
seeming want of ambition or lack of energy on my part. 

FIenry. And why? Don't I give you a home— a place to 
eat and sleep? 

Jane {spiritlessly) . Yes — I have a place to eat and sleep. 

Henry. Humph.! Then what more do you want? 

Jane {with a faraway look). Ambition! No, I don't be- 
lieve I know the meaning of the word any more. {Gazes 
sadly about, then laughs mirthlessly.) Ambition ! No, father, 
I don't believe I have any left. 

Henry. Well, you should have. You've got everything 
to work and to live for. You've got two boarders that pay 
you regularly every week, haven't you? 

Jane. I have no complaint on that score. The boarders 
are prompt pay. 

Henry. Another thing. Who did the talking when the 
two boarders applied here for board? 

Jane. You did, father. 

Henry {proudly). You bet I did. Old Man Hudson 
afterwards declared that he had never met a more engaging 
or intelligent talker than me in his life ; and Miss Peck said 
about the same thing. 

Jane {laughs good-naturedly). Oh, well; it's all right. I 
give you due credit, Fm sure. 

Henry {mollified). I ain't looking for anything that I 
ain't entitled to, but I do pride myself on the fact that I 
know how to talk. 

Jane {mischievously) . Yes, Stubbie says that talking is 
the very best thing you can do. 

Henry {not realizing that a thrust zvas intended). Say, 
you know, I kinder like that chap. He's chock full of life 
and energy, and — {pause) — and he's a rattling good judge 
of human nature, too. (Jane smiles, then goes to closet 
for more dishes.) Yes, sirree, Stubbie's a fine young fel- 



THE GOODFELLOW. 11 

low. (Glances cautiously about first, then in subdued tone.) 
This Old Man Hudson has certainly g-ot me curious. I 
don't know what to make of him. 

Jane (coming to table with dishes). Why? (Laughs.) 

Henry (again glancing about, in cautious tone). He's 
a mystery. I can't discover anything about him. He's al- 
ways got plenty of money, but I swear I can't find out where 
he gets it. 

Jane (arranging table, laughingly). That's too bad, 
father. Why don't you ask him? 

Henry. I did — a half dozen times; but he's too durned 
clever. He's a deep one, all right, and (glances all about, 
shivers) he gives me the "creeps" every time h.e comes 
near me. 

Jane. Nonsense, father. Mr. Hudson is a very nice man, 
also a very charitable one. He's always giving something 
to somebody. 

Henry. Well, he never gave me anything in the line of 
information. All he gives me is the ''creeps." (Picks up 
paper, viciously turns over a page and stares angrily at the 
print with unseeing eyes.) 

Mrs. Madison (off L., in a weak, complaining voice). 
Jane! 

Jane. Yes, mother. 

Mrs. M. Have you forgotten me entirely? 

Jane (cheerily). Why, no, mother. Something I can 
get you ? 

Mrs. M. I did want something, but I've forgotten what 
it was now. (Pause.) What time is it? 

Henry (aside). She wants something if it's only the 
time. 

Jane (glancing at clock, dial cannot he seen by audience). 
It's nearly seven, dear. 

Mrs. M. Well, isn't it time for my medicine? 

Jane (patiently) . Yes, dear. Father will bring it to you. 
(Henry lowers paper and frowns over top at Jane.) 

Mrs. M. (peevishly). I don't want father to bring it. I 
want you. 

Jane (sighs, goes to china closet). Very well, mother 



12 THE GOODFELLOW. 

dear. Just a moment. {Takes a bottle from closet and ex- 
its door L. 2 E.) 

Henry (turning another page with a vicious snap). 
Humph! Them folks expect me to do everything about the 
place. 

Enter Martha, door R. 2 E. She is attired for the street 
and is pulling on a glove as she comes in. 

Martha {stiffly). Good evening, Mr. Madison. 

Henry {working chair about and facing her) . Oh, good 
evening, Miss Peck. Going out? 

Martha {sarcastically). No, I'm just coming in. {At 
door R. C.) Tell Miss Madison I won't be here for supper 
tonight. I'm going to the Episcopal Church supper. {With 
hand on knob.) 

Henry {lightly). You want to be careful, Miss Peck, 
going about all alone. Young men nowadays are pretty 
pesky bold. {Rises.) 

Martha {scornfully) . Humph! Well, I'd just like to see 
one of them speak to me. I'd just like to see 'em try it! 
Mr. Madison, to my notion men are the most useless 
creatures that the good Lord ever put the breath of life 
into. 

Henry {resentfully) . O, I wouldn't say that. There's 
some that amount to something. 

Martha {scornfidly) . Humph! Where? 

Henry {meaningly). O, you wouldn't have to look very 
far to find one, I guess. 

Martha {sarcastically). You I suppose you mean! 
{Comes quickly to dining-tahle, leans against it, stump 
speech fashion^) Let me tell you something, Mr. Madison. 
Maybe you think you are somebody, but you're my idea of 
a big human cipher in the arithmetic of life. {Pounds table 
with a fist.) I have my candid opinion, Mr. Madison, of a 
man that will sit around all day and allow his own daughter 
to slave and drudge the way you do. And yet you say 
you wouldn't have far to go to find a man that amounted 
to something! Bah! Piffle! I'd have a heap further to go 
than Mr. Henry Madison's house, I'm here to tell you. 



THE GOODFELLOW. 13 

(Pounds table again.) Why, say, you wouldn't even draw 
your own breath if your daughter could do it for you. And 
if it wasn't for that same daughter you'd be in the poor- 
house. I begrudge every cent I pay for my board here, be- 
cause some of it goes to keep you alive. Keeping you alive 
is a sheer waste of good money, and I do hate to see my 
money wasted. (Turns and flounces to door R. C., turns and 
faces him again.) I hope my words have found lodgement 
in your shiftless hide ; but they won't. It's too much to hope 
for that they will. But they've done some good. That's 
the longest you've stood on your feet at one time since I've 
been here. Good night. (Exit door R. C, hanging it after 
her. ) 

Henry (who has stood all through her tirade zvith hands 
behind his back, head thrust out and zvide open mouth, nozv 
stares after her an instant, slowly turns, walks to. rocking 
chair, slowly picks up newspaper, stares at it meditatively 
for an instant.) By jinks! Something seems to tell me that 
that woman don't like me. (Preoccupied air.) 

Enter Jane, door L. 2 E., with bottle in hand, crosses to 
china closet and places bottle on a shelf. 

Jane. Were you talking to someone, father? 

Henry (with a start). Eh? 

Jane. I asked you -if you were talking- to someone. 

Henry. Me? No, I wasn't talking. (Polishes glasses.) 

Jane. I thought I heard someone talking. 

Henry. You did — but it wasn't me. 

Jane. Oh! (Occupies herself at table.) Did Mr. Hud- 
son come in? 

Henry. No, Miss Peck went out. (Squints through 
glasses to see if they are clean.) 
, Jane. Went out — without her supper ? 

Henry (vehemently) . Say, I don't know that woman's 
middle name, or whether she has one or not ; but if she 
has, it's 'Talk," and I'll bet on it. You know, old Dan-u-el 
Webster and myself have both an established reputation on 
the method by which we handle the English language, but 



14 THE GOODFELLOW. 

that Peck woman makes both of us look like a couple of 
deaf mutes with our hands cut off. 

Jane (laughs lightly). What did she say tO' you? (Goes 
to door R. 3 E.) 

Henry. Um ! (Polishes glasses to hide his confusion.) 
Well, she said for one thing that she wouldn't be here for 
supper. 

Jane (at door R. 3 E.). Is that all? 

Henry. Not by a jugful it wasn't all. (Occupies himself 
with paper and intimating by his actions that he has noth- 
ing more to say regarding the matter.) 

Jane (at door). If you don't mind, you might fill the 
coal box. I shall hardly have enough coal to finish cooking 
supper. (Exits door R. 3 E.) 

Henry (slamming paper down on floor. Solos angrily). 
By ginger ! I'm getting blamed tired of doing all the work 
around here. I don't get a chance to set down a second and 
read my paper before it's "Father, get some coal," or 
'Tather, pump some water," or it's father do this or father 
do that. Humph ! It's a fine state of affairs when it gets so 
a man is ordered about his home like he was a common 
servant. (Sulks.) 

Enter Jane, R. 3 E. She carries a plateful of cut bread. 
Crosses to table, sets it down. 

Jane. I do wish, you'd hurry, fath-er. I want to get sup- 
per out of the way as soon as possible. I expect the folks 
over. 

Henry (testily). Folks? What folks? 

Jane. Why, Dora, Stubbie, and — (shyly)— and John, 

Henry (vehemently). Oh, John's coming, is he? Say, 
young lady, I'm going to lay down the law right now. I 
don't want that John Dawson hanging around you any 
longer. Understand ? 

Jane (zvith spirit). Father, we've gone all over that be- 
fore. I have no desire to quarrel with you or oppose your 
wishes in things reasonable. But you are unjust and un- 
reasonable in your dislike for John. What has he ever done 
to incur your dislike? 



THE GOODFELLOW. 15 

Henry. It ain't what he's done ; it's what he hasn't done. 
He's a mighty shiftless young man, according to my point 
of view. 

Jane (siniles sadly). Just what is your definition of 
"shiftless"? Don't you think that I am in a better position 
to define that word than you? John has a good situation, 
with every opportunity for steady promotion, and — 

Henry (interrupting) . Say, are you intimating that Fm 
shiftless ? 

Jane (sighs). I am merely defending John— not con- 
demning you. 

Henry. That's different. But I don't like John Dawson. 

Jane (smilingly). John will never be troubled with in- 
somnia on that account, I'm sure.. 

Henry. Maybe not. But he'll have trouble all right if he 
don't quit his drinking. (Jane sighs and shozvs that the 
shot has struck home.) There never was no good come 
from young fellows getting drunk — 

Jane (interrupting) . Stop, father. The worst that any- 
one can say against John is that he's a ''goodfellow" — per- 
haps too easily infiuenced. 

Henry. Well, there's nothing in being a ''goodfellow." 
I found that out years ago. 

Jane (sadly). Yes, I'm quite sure you did. (Henry 
glares at her, then picks up paper and buries his face in it.) 

Mrs. M. (off L., plaintive voice). Jane! 

Jane. Yes, dear. 

Mrs. M. (whining tone). I don't like to complain, but 1 
think you are neglecting me shamefully. 

Henry (to Jane). You musn't neglect your mother, 
Jane. 

Jane (patiently, to Mrs. M.). Can I get you something? 
(Mrs. M. does not reply and Jane stands expectantly for 
an instant.) Is there something you wish, dear? 

Mrs. M. (peevishly). There is, but please don't hurry 
me. I am trying to think of what I want. (Jane sighs 
wearily and Henry conceals a grin behind his paper.) 

Henry (glancing at Jane from a perusal of the page in 



16 THE GOODFELLOW. 

front of him). Funny thing, that robbery last night, wasn't 
it? 

Jane. Yes, it appears to be a very strange affair. (Drazvs 
out a chair and sits with one elbow on table.) 

Henry. Um ! Safe wasn't blown open — just opened by 
turning the combination, according to the paper. 

Jane (abstractedly). Yes — so I read. 

Henry (impressively) . Only two people knew the com- 
bination. 

Jane (looking at him with sudden .interest). I didn't 
know that. 

Henry. It's in the paper. You're not a close observer. 
(Pause, then impressively.) The two who knew the combi- 
nation were Banker Meadows and (slight pause) John 
Dawson. 

Jane (rising, with marked agitation). There— there must 
be some mistake. 

Henry (shaking head decisively). Nope ! No mistake; 
it's here in black and white. (Taps page zvith forefinger.) 

Jane (nervously). And — and what significance do you 
attach to that fact — if it's true? 

Henry (drazvlingly) . Waal, it ain't for me to say exactly ; 
but if it was, I'd say most emphatically that folks don't 
usually rob themselves. 

Jane (zvith strong emotion). You — you mean that — 
that John is the guilty one? (Leans toward him zvith hands 
clenched, indignant and threatening.) 

Henry (coivering from her zvrath). That ain't for me to 
say. I — (further speech is checked by the sound of a zvalk- 
ing stick striking on stone pavement at regular intervals. 
At first, a short distance off, then gradually grozving louder 
as the bearer of cane, Hudson^ approaches the house. The 
effect aimed at is to create a weird atmosphere to ''zi'ork up'' 
the entrance of Hudson and to follow up the ''creeps" im- 
pression that Hudson is supposed to exercise over Henry. 
HuDSON^s actions must convey to the audience that there is 
something mysterious about him. Jane and Henry^ at the 
first sound of Hudson's cane, strike a tense, listening atti- 



THE GOODFELLOW. 17 

tilde and maintain same until the footsteps of Hudson are 
heard just without door R. C. Then — ) 

Jane (zvith a sigh of relief), O, it's only Mr. Hudson. 
- Henry (with a shiver). Ugh ! He's given me the ''creeps" 
again. 

Hudson cautiously opens door R. C, looks carefully in, 
unseen by Jane or Henry^ then steps quickly inside, clos- 
ing door after him silently. He carries a heavy zvalk- 
ing stick, wears a heavy overcoat and about his neck is a 
large silk muffler. His eyes are protected by slightly col- 
ored spectacles. He begins to slozdy unwind the muffler, 
darting quick, suspicious glances about the room. 

Jane {still unaware of Hudson's entrance). What do 
the police think of the robbery? 

Henry. They claim to have a strong clue — (Hudson 
lets his cane fall to the floor zvith a bang. Jane and Henry 
zvhirl about in alarm, facing Hudson.) 

Hudson (stooping dozvn and picking up cane). Beg 
your pardon — slipped out of my hand, you know. (Puts 
cane in halltree, takes off overcoat and hat.) 

Henry (to Hudson). You did give us a start, Mr. 
Hudson. 

Hudson (coming dozmi to sofa L. C. Chuckles). Read- 
about last night's robbery? (Sits on edge of sofa and 
strokes right eyebrozv zvith thumb and finger, a character- 
istic habit.) 

Henry. Yes, quite an affair, wasn't it? 

Hudson. I should so call it. Twenty thousand dollars and 
a bundle of valuable securities is quite an affair. 

Jane (in a loud, tense whisper). Twenty thousand 
dollars ! 

Hudson (turning quickly to Jane). Did you speak, Miss 
Madison ? 

Jane (confusedly). I? Oh, no — no, sir! How much did 
you say was — was stolen? 

Hudson. Twenty thousand in currency and some valuable 
securities. 

Jane (agitatedly) . The paper did not state that amount. 



18 THE GOODFELLOW. 

Hudson. They didn't know just what was taken until a 
little while ago. Very peculiar affair indeed. 

Jane. I'll get your supper ready in just a few minutes, 
Mr. Hudson. {She deliz'ers this speech abruptly, with evi- 
dent desire to change the subject and leave the room.) 

Hudson {as she starts to go). Don't mind, Miss Madi- 
son. Don't bother about supper for me. I had a little busi- 
ness deal on and took supper at the hotel with, my future 
partners. (Henry betrays sudden curiosity.) 

Jane {at table). Very well, sir. {Smiles.) I shall have 
a vacation tonight, then. Miss Peck also declined to partake 
of my culinary effort^. {Picks up plate of bread.) She's at 
the church supper. 

Hudson {gallantly). Miss Peck sometimes displays poor 
judgment. (Henry tries to quench his consuming curi- 
osity by attempting to attract Hudson^s attention and ask 
him a question.) 

Jane {smilingly, to Hudson). And you? 

Hudson. Business must be my excuse tonight. Miss 
Madison. {Strokes his eyebrozu.) 

Henry {to Jane), How about me? Don't I get no 
supper? 

Jane {starting for door R. 3 zmth plate of bread). Yes — 
in the kitchen. (Henry scozvls, Hudson chuckles. Jane 
exits R. 3 E.) 

Mrs. M. {off L.). Did someone just come in, Jane? 

Henry. Yes. Mr. Hudson. {Hitches chair a couple of 
feet nearer HuDSt)N.) You started to tell me about your 
business deal, Mr. Hudson. 

Hudson {rising from sofa. Irrelevantly) . You've got a 
mighty fine daughter, Mr. Madison — mighty fine! {Sighs.) 
I would that I might — 

Henry {interrupting, not to be turned). Did your busi- 
ness deal involve much cash, Mr. Hudson ? 

Hudson. And she's a mighty fine cook, too. Sorry to 
miss even one meal here. {Goes to door L. 3 E., turns, lays 
one finger alongside of nose and closes one eye.) Yes, sirree ; 
she's one woman in a thousand. {Exits L. 3 E., smiling 
knozvingly over shoulder.) 



THE GOODFELLOW. 19 

Henry (rising, shaking a fist at the departed man and 
scozvling). You think you're mighty smart, don't you? But 
I'll find out something about you yet. {Exits R. 3 E.) 

Stubbie and Dora appear at window L. C, peer in, then 
go to door R. C. and knock. Jane enters R. 3 E., wiping 
lips with handkerchief, as if she'd just been eating, goes to 
door R. C. and opens it. Enter Stubbie and Dora. Jane 
greets them heartily, kissing Dora and shaking hands zvith 
Stubbie. 

Jane (after greetings, looking at door expectantly, then 
going to it and looking off R. and L.) Did you see any- 
thing of John? (Closes door; shozvs keen disappointment.) 

Stubbie (hanging up overcoat and hat). Not a blessed 
thing. (Jane sighs' heavily.) 

Dora (to Jane, hanging up jacket and hat). You see, 
dearie, we didn't come — that is, we didn't meet anybody on 
our way here. 

Stubbie (in his characteristic breezy manner, drazving off 
a pair of yellozv chamois gloves). No, we only hit the lone- 
some spots. Didn't we,' sweetheart? (Chucks Dora under 
her chin. She shows confusion.) 

Jane (smiling). I believe you two are a couple of true 
exponents of "Love's young dream." 

Stubbie (places gloves in overcoat pocket so that the tops 
protrude, goes to sofa and sits. To Jane.) We haven't a 
thing on you and John at that, Jansie. Say, when have you 
decided to permit your John to commence paying the gro- 
cery bills? (Dora stands back of sofa, smiling.) 

Jane (turning away to hide her confusion). I — I — we 
haven't decided, Stubbie. (Sits at dining-table, idly picks 
up fork and toys zvith it.) 

Stubbie (piilling out a cigar). Oh, come now; that's not 
right. You — 

Dora (back of sofa, claps one hand over his mouth. 
Aside). Hold your tongue. (Indicates Jane.) 

Stubbie (to Jane, holding up cigar). You don't object, 
do you? 



20 THE GOODFELLOW.. 

Jane. No ; by all means, smoke, Stubbie. (Resumes toy- 
ing zvith fork, abstracted manner.) 

Stubbie (aside to Dora). Say, what's the matter with 
her nobs ? (Nods at Jane, scratches match and lights cigar.) 

Dora (aside to him). I don't just know — but I'm going 
to find out. 

Mrs. M. (off L.). Jane! 

Jane. Yes, mother. 

Mrs. M. Did someone just come in? 

Jane. Yes, mother — Dora and Stubbie. 

Dora and Stubbie (in chorus). How are you feeling 
tonight, Mrs. Madison? 

Mrs. M. (fretfidly). Just the same. I shall never be any 
different — never ! (Jane sighs, Stubbie gives two or three 
vigorous puffs on cigar, while Dora runs her fingers through 
his hair in tender manner.) 

Jane (sighs again, then to Stubbie). I don't believe she 
suffers any, poor soul. But it's terrible to lie there day after 
day — no hope — nothing! (Dora and Stubbie nod sympa- 
thetically.) Stubbie, I'm awfully worried. 

Stubbie (with keen sympathy). Worried? About her? 
(Nods in direction of L. 2 E.) 

Jane. No — that is, it's not she altogether. (Hesitates.) 
It's somebody else. Stubbie. 

Stubbie (with quick sympathy, leaning eagerly forward 
on sofa). I'll punch his head off, Jansie. 

Jane (smiling). I don't want his head punched off, 
Stubbie. 

Dora (to Stubbie). Certainly not. She likes his head. 

Stubbie (to Dora). Say, how do you know who it is, 
and — 

Dora (interrupting) . Because I'm a woman, and a woman 
is most always a good guesser. Now I need only one guess 
to name the person Jane is worried about. It's John Daw- 
son. (Jane shows confusion.) 

Stubbie (to Jane). Oh, forget it. If it's John — he's the 
best fellow in the world. 

Jane (sighs). That's just it, Stubbie. I wish he weren't. 



THE GOODFELLOW. 21 

That may sound ambiguous, but I guess you know what I 
mean,, (Hesitates.) It's his — his habits. 

Stubbie (cheerily). Oh, John doesn't drink enough, to 
hurt. I take a drink now and then myself. John's a good- 
fellow — take it from me, Jansie. 

Jane. There it is again — goodfellow. (Rising.) Oh, I do 
wish that every oody wouldn't keep calling him that. (Leans 
against table. With deep feeling.) Stubbie, when I first 
met John he was different. He never drank and he was — 
was in every way good folks' idea of all that is best in a 
young man. But gradually he began to change ; so slowly, 
perhaps, that none but my eyes noted the change. As his 
salary increased he was sought after and made the compan- 
ionship of pleasure-loving companions, who found him pli- 
able to their idea of good times. And now — now — (sobs.) 
Oh, I'm afraid! (Sinks in chair, face on arms, sobs.) 

Dora (springs to Jane^ throzvs a comforting arm around 
her). Jane, don't! 

Stubbie (rises and takes two or three quick steps before 
speaking). Oh, come now, Jansie; it's not as bad as all 
that. We'll talk to him. He thinks a lot of you, and — by 
gad, he's just got to listen to me; that's all. (Clinches -fist.) 

Jane (raising her head and glancing fearfully all about). 
With strong emotion). It's too late — too late! 

Stubbie (misunderstanding her). It's not too late. It 
isn't eight o'clock yet. I'll go and find him. (Starts for his 
overcoat and hat, but stops as Jane speaks.) 

Jane. No, no. Stubbie. You don't understand. It's too 
late after what — what happened last night. 

Stubbie. Last night? What about last night? 

Jane (gaspingly). The — the — robbery! (Dora and 
Stubbie start in shocked stir prise, Dora again laying a 
hand on Jane's shoulder.) 

Stubbie (.puifing zngorously on cigar in an effort to re- 
gain his composure). Say, what's all this about, anyway? 
Frrst you "pan" John for taking a few poor old drinks, and 
now you pull this emotional stuff about the robbery. (Slight 
pause, then commandingly.) Jansie, buck up! Raise your 
pretty eyes and look me in the face ! (Jane slowly raises 



22 THE GOODFELLOW. 

her head, then as slowly permits her gaze to wander to his 
face.) That's the idea, Jansie. Now come clean! 

Jane {speaking each word in forced manner). They are 
pointing their fingers at John, and — and hinting that— that 
he — oh, I can't say it, Stubbie ! 

Dora {soothingly). There, there, dear. 

Stubbie {to Jane, growlingly). And you had better 
not say it — nor anyone else. Come now. Who's been 
pointing fingers at John? 

Jane. It's — it's in your own paper: "Only two knew the 
combination." And — and father said that — that one does not 
rob himself. (Stubbie fairly chokes zvith indignation and 
is about to burst into violent speech, when — ) 

Dora {quickly to Stubbie). Young man, don't you dare 
speak what's on your mind ! 

Stubbie {recovers with an effort. To Dora). Thanks. 
You were just in time. {To Jane, chidingly.) Jansie, I'm 
surprised at you. I am more than surprised. I'm — say, I'd 
rather have a million dollars than your mean disposition. 
You doubting John ! The idea ! 

Jane {eagerly and hopeftdly). Then you think John 
knows nothing of — 

Stubbie {interrupting). Sure thing. It's true that old 
Meadows claims that he and John were the only holders of 
the combination ; but, say, I wouldn't put anything by old 
Meadows — even to the robbing of himself. 

Jane {eagerly). And John? Have you seen him today? 

Stubbie {hesitatingly). Well, no. {Briskly.) But he'll 
show up tonight. It''s early yet. 

Dora {to Jane). Now you've worried enough. Stubbie 
knows everything, and he tells you that John is all right. 

Jane {donbtfidly) . Yes, dear, but — {to Stubbie.) What 
object would Mr. Meadows have in taking his own money, 
and then raising a hue and cry that he'd been robbed? 

Stubbie. Haven't those things been done before? Sure 
they have — thousands of times. But this will work out all 
right, just as the others have. John may dally with a drink 
now and then, but he's no thief — not on your life ! 

Jane {thankfully). Oh, Stubbie — thank you! 



THE GOODFELLOW. 23 

Dora {trmmphantly , to Jane). There! Didn't Ttell you 
that Stubbie knew everything? (Jane smiles at Dora and 
Stubbie proudly throws out his chest.) 

Henry (off R. 3 E., calling). Jane! 

Jane. Yes, father. 

Henry (fretftdly) , I can't find the bread. 

Jane. It's in the bread box, father. 

Henry. Well, that ain't no place for it. When I eat I 
want it on the table. (Jane smiles, Dora frowns and 
Stubbie makes a grimace.) 

Mrs. M. (off L. 2 E., fretfully). Jane! (Dora and 
Stubbie sigh.) 

Jane (patiently). Yes, mother. 

Mrs. M. Have Dora and Stubbie gone yet? 

Jane. No, dear. Want something? 

Mrs. M. Oh, no ; I guess not. 

Dora (to Jane). Let's go in and cheer her up. Stubbie 
won't mind. (To StXibbie.) You won't, will you? 

Stubbie (gloomily). No — I won't mind. 

Jane. We won't be long. (Jane and Dora link arms, 
cross to L. and exeunt L. 2 E. Stubbie heaves a profotmd 
sigh, sits on edge of sofa, thoughtful manner, takes out a 
match and relights cigar.) 

Stubbie (after two or three thoughtful puffs). It's a 
darn funny proposition, just the same. I tried to kid my- 
self along and make her think that John was O. K., but — 

it's funny darn funny ! (Smokes thoughtfully, leaning 

forward with elbows on knees.) 

Hudson enters L. 3 E. He darts his quick characteristic 
glances about room, then advances silently and stands hack 
of Stubbie, watching him in silence for an instant, a half 
smile on his face. 

Hudson. Good evening, young man. 

Stubbie (startled, almost slides off sofa, recovers and 
zvhirls about to Hudson). Oh, howdy, Mr. Hudson. Thought 
I was alone, you know. 

Hudson (dryly). You were — until I came in. (Pulls 
cigar from pocket.) Don't mind if I stop here and join you 



24 THE GOODFELLOW. 

in a smoke, do you? (Pulls a chair from under table and 
sits. ) 

Stubbie (cordially). No, not at all. Glad to have you. 

Hudson. Fond of smoking? 

Stubbie. Oh, yes ; but I'm not what you might call a 
passionate smoker. 

Hudson (chuckles and lights cigar). You're the news- 
paper young man, aren't you? 

Stubbie (breezily). Yes, sir. "Morning Growl." Larg- 
est circulation in the state, best advertising medium ; best 
sporting page in the Middle West ; best editorials ; foreign 
news unequalled, and — 

Hudson (interrupts with a chuckle). And the best re- 
porter. (Strokes eyebrow with finger and thumb. Stubbie 
notes the action and stares intently at Hudson. The latter 
ceases the stroking abruptly, bends forzvard and returns the 
stare for an instant.) Beg your pardon, young man; no 
offense at what I said, I trust? 

Stubbie (recovers composure). No, sir. I didn't hear 
what you said. I guess I was thinking — that's all. (Aside.) 
Confound it! What ails me? 

Hudson (after tzuo or three puffs). Did you write the 
story of last night's affair? 

Stubbie. The robbery? Yes, sir. 

Hudson. Rather a queer go. 

Stubbie. Why queer? 

Hudson. Rather unusual proceedings for a safe to be 
rifled by simply working" the combination. It's usually a 
case of dynamite. (Again strokes eyebrow.) 

Stubbie (again betraying interest m the action). Yes, 
safes have been blown open before I believe. (Pause.) Just 
what are you driving at, Mr. Hudson ? 

¥LvT)S>oi^ (chiickles) . Not a blessed thing, young man. 
And now that I've answered your question, will you recip- 
rocate by answering one of mine? 

Stubbie. Go as far as you like, sir. 

Hudson. Just what kind of a man is this Banker 
Meadows ? 



THE GOODFELLOW. 25 

Stubbie (smiles broadly). Before I answer, is this for 
publication or for your own private digest? 

Hudson (smiles in return). My own private digest. 

Stubbie. Well, if Richard Meadows has a friend in 
this town, nobody but Richard Meadows knows of it. 

Hudson. Dear, dear! 

Stubbie. He's the extreme limit in everything that's 
small, narrow and mean. He's the kind of a man that 
would lean up against fresh paint, so's he could get some- 
thing for nothing. 

Hudson (chuckles). Thank you. Your statement only 
verifies things derogatory I have already heard regarding 
him. (Impressively.) I have made no mistake! 

Stubbie (surprised). Hey? 

Hudson. The more I see of some folks, the more I like 
dogs. (Clears throat.) One other question, Mr. — (at loss 
for the name). 

Stubbie (helpftilly) . Stebbins, sir. 

Hudson. Mr. Stebbins, what sort of a young chap is this 
young Dawson? 

Stubbie (enthusiastically) . He's a prince. O. K. in every 
detail ! 

Hudson. Again I thank you, Mr. — (again at a loss). 

Stubbie. Say, just call me Stubbie; it's easier. 

Hudson (smiles). Very good; I'll try to remember. 
(Strokes eyehrozv, gazing dreamily into space for the while.) 

Stubbie (watching action with puckered brozv for an 
instant). Mr. Hudson, I don't believe I ever saw you be- 
fore until you came here to this house a short time ago, 
but somehow it strikes me quite forcibly that sometime, 
somewhere, we have met before. 

Hudson (with a slight start, then conceals his agitatian 
by stifling a yawn behind one hand). It's likely. This old 
world of ours isn't such a large place after all. 

Stubbie (still gazing steadily at Htjbsoisi) . Philadelphia, 
Boston, New York — some eastern city, I am almost positive. 

Hudson. Again I say it is quite likely. I have traveled 
extensively in m^y time. (Smiles indulgently.) 



26 THE GOODFELLOW. 

Stubbie (shakes head doubtfully and then takes a deep 
breath). You've got me licked. I can't place you! 

Hudson {smiles). They say we all have our doubles. 
{Pause, during zvhich both busy themselves with their ci- 
gars in a preoccupied manner.) Mr. Stubbie — 

Stubbie. Stebbins, sir. 

Hudson. Um — yes ; my mistake. I'm going to take you 
into my confidence — if you don't mind. (Stubbie darts a 
quick look at him.) These people here — Mr. and Mrs. Mad- 
ison and — and Jane. I feel awfully sorry for them. {Puffs 
on cigar. Stubbie intently zvatches him. Pause.) It's a 
funny world, isn't it? Now there's Richard Meadows. 
Meanest man in town and has lots of money. Then there's 
the folks in this house. Good, honest souls and not a dollar 
to their names. {Sighs, then bends forward eagerly.) Mr. 
Stubbie — Stebbins, I mean. I should like extremicly well 
to do something for these poor souls — something handsome 
in the way of a cash gift. 

Stubbie {quickly). Not a chance in the world. They're 
too almighty proud. They'd resent it — that is, Miss Madi- 
son would. 

Hudson (slowly). Yes, you're right — she would. (Medi- 
tative pause.) See here, Stebbins. I've got a whole lot of 
money that is doing me absolutely no good, and it would 
bring peace and happiness to these folks here. Think up 
some way I can get them to relieve me of it, won't you? 

Stubbie (heartily). It's thundering good of you and all 
that, Mr. Hudson, but your proposition is out of the ques- 
tion. 

Hudson (disappointed). Pshaw! I had hoped for some- 
thing better from you. (Again strokes eyebrozv and again 
Stubbie keenly watches the action.) Well (rising-), I am 
going to keep an eye open. Something mig"ht develop. 
Wish, you'd do likewise, Mr. Stubbie. 

Stubbie (rising). Going to be in town much longer, Mr. 
Hudson ? 

Hudson (looking keenly at Stubbie), Can't tell. De- 
pends largely on circumstances. Why? 



THE GOODFELLOW. 27 

Stubbie (confusedly). Oh — nothing — just curious ; that's 
all, I guess. 

Hudson bows and starts for door L. 3 E., but stops at 
C. as Jane and Dora enter from L. 2 E. 

Dora (looking back into room). Good night, Mrs. Madi- 
son. 

Mrs. M. (more cheerfully, off L. 2 E.). Good night, 
dear. You must come again. (Dora smiles and turns to- 
zvards Stubbie.) 

Jane (to Mrs. M.). I'll be in later to fix you for the 
night, dear. (Turns frotn door.) 

Hudson (to Jane and Dora). Young ladies. (Bows.) 

Dora. Oh, how do you do, Mr. Hudson ! 

Hudson. Nicely, thank you. (To Jane, taking an en- 
velope from an inside pocket and extending it to her.) 
Here's something for you. A little advance on my board. 
(She takes envelope hesitatingly.) Don't be backward, 
Miss Madison. I expect to be with you for some time to 
come, and the money will be safer in your hands than mine. 
Good night. (Bozvs and exits L. 3 E. Jane and Dora 
watch him in amazement until he is hidden from their 
view. . Stubbie, on sofa, sits, with elbows on knees, staring 
dreamily into space.) 

Dora (turning and coming to back of sofa. To Jane). 
What a peculiar old man. 

Jane (at table). He is eccentric — very! (Holds envel- 
ope up curiously.) 

Dora. Well, why don't you open it? (Goes close to 
Jane.) 

Jane (smiles). A Avoman never opens an envelope with- 
out first giving it a thorough overlooking. (Comedy busi- 
ness of turning envelope over and over trying to discover 
its contents by holding it up to the light.-) 

Dora (impatiently). Oh, do hurry. I just can't wait! 

Jane (smiling) . All right. Miss Curiosity. (Tears open 
envelope, extracts a bill and holds it up. Breathlessly). A 
hundred dollar bill ! 



28 THE GOODFELLOW. 

Dora {echoes in awe stricken tone). A hundred dollar 
bill ! 

Jane {glancing at door L. 3 E., then at hill). I mustn't 
take this. 

Dora. Well, he gave it to you. I don't see the harm — and 
he'll eat it up eventually. 

Jane. I know, dear. {Looks doubtfully at hill.) It's a 
real temptation, but I've no right to accept this much. 
{Pause, then.) No. I shall give it back. {Crosses rapidly 
to L. and exits, calling.) Oh, Mr. Hudson! Mr. Hudson! 

Dora {to Stubbie, ivho has meanwhile heen sitting on 
sofa, elhows on knees, smoking and absorbed in thought). 
Stubbie dear, what do you think of it? 

Stubbie {rousing with a start). Hey? 

Dora. I asked you what you thought of it. 

Stubbie. I'm blessed if I know. Sometimes I think I've 
got him, then the next minute he gets away from me. 

Dora. Say, what are you talking about? {At sofa.) 

Stubbie. Hudson, of course. It isn't to be supposed that 
you have noticed that peculiarity of his, but I have ; and I 
can't recall where, I have seen that same thing before, 
and — 

Dora {placing hand over his mouth, then withdrawing it 
and kissing him- on the lips. Soothingly). There, there, 
honey-boy. Don't rave any more. 

Stubbie. I'm not raving, dear. {Earnestly.) I'm trying 
to tell you about this Hudson chap, and the habit he has 
of — see, it's like this. {Strokes eyebrozv in imitation of 
Hudson.) 

Dora {laughs gaily). The idea! Why should a little 
thing like that have such a tremendous effect on you? 

Stubbie. I know, and I don't know. Sometime, somx- 
where I've seen someone addicted to that same habit. Con- 
found it ! I suppose it is a trifling matter at that — but I'm 
dippy with the idea that this Hudson chap has figured in 
some past. episode in my newspaper experience, and I won't 
rest easy till I dig him out of the past and connect him 
with it. 



THE GOODFELLOW. 29 

Dora (laughs lightly). Well, here's luck. But the hun- 
dred dollar bill? 

Stubbie. What hundred dollar bill? 

Dora. Oh, I forgot. I thought you knew. Mr. Hudson 
gave Jane a hudred dollar bill just now — advance on his 
board. 

Stubbie. Anything suspicious about that? 

Dora. Well, it's rather unusual for one to pay their board 
that far ahead, isn't it? 

Stubbie (dryly). Yes, it would be for me. I have plenty 
to do to pay mine a week in advance. 

Enter Jane^ excited manner, from L. 3 E. 

Jane (excitedly). He's not in his room — he's gone. 

Dora. Gone? (Whirling about, facing Jane.) 

Stubbie (rising). Who's gone? 

Jane (at C). Mr. Hudson. 

Stubbie. Gone where? 

Jane. I don't know. He must have gone out through 
the window. 

Stubbie. Well, what do you care? He just paid a hun- 
dred in advance, didn't he? 

Dora (sternly). Stubbie, don't be funny. 

Jane (nervously) . Everything and everybody seems out 
of joint lately. I can't understand it. (Agitated manner.) 

Hurried footsteps sound off C, then enter Martha, R. 
C, closing door quickly after her and standing in listening 
attitude for an instant. The others, zvith hack to audience, 
stand in tense attitudes, waiting her explanation. 

Martha (breathing heavily, slowly comes from door to 
the table and leans against it for support. With a startled 
glance at the door). Oh, my, what a dreadful adventure! 

Stubbie (defensiz^ely placing himself betzveen her and 
the door). What is it. Miss Peck? (Jane and Dora stand 
C, frightened.) 

Martha (attempting to regain her breath). A man — he 
followed me when I went out — to go to the church — and I 
— I wanted to make sure he was — was following me, so I 



30 THE GOODFELLOW. 

didn't go — to the church — went down town instead and he 
— he followed all the way — and he's out there now. (Stub- 
bie starts for door.) 

Dora (pleadingly). Don't go, Stubbie. It's dark out 
there. 

Jane (to Martha). Perh.aps it was Mr. Hudson. 
(Stubbie at door.) 

Martha (with a sniff). Huh! Don't you suppose I 
know him? 

Stubbie (opens door cautiously, looks off R. and L., then 
closes door again and turns to the women. Calmly). No- 
body there now. (His actions, however, denote that he has 
seen someone outside.) 

Jane (nervously). I'll — I'll call father. (Starts for L.) 

Martha (disdainfully). Humph !* Please don't. Your 
father warned me against such a thing, and I wouldn't 
give him the satisfaction of letting him know that for once 
in his life he was right. (Goes to door R. 2 E., turns.) I'll 
go in my own room, pull down the shades, lock the door, 
and the Lord have mercy on the man who dares break in. 
(Exit R.2E.) 

Stubbie. Amen! (Laughs.) 

Dora (sternly). Stubbie Stebbins! I 'm ashamed of you. 

Jane (who has heen pacing nervously R. to L.). Oh,, 
what does it all mean? 

Stubbie (to Jane, lightly). It means that I am in fine 
condition to hide a couple of g'lasses of cider and some 
apples under my vest, and I hereby suggest that you make 
yourself a committee of one to entice said cider and apples 
from yon kitchen — and then I'll show you what it all means. 
(Playfully puts both hands on Jane's shoulders and shoves 
her through door R. 3 E. Then he turns to Dora^ puts a 
hand on her hack and shoves her to R. 3 E., stops her at 
threshold. Tensely and in a subdued tone.) Listen. Two 
men are watching the house. I'm going outside and scout. 
You go in the kitchen and jolly Jane. Scat now and be 
good. (Shoves her through door R. 3 E., then runs, grabs 
hat, turns up coat collar and exits on the run door L. 3 E.) 



THE GOODFELLOW. 31 

There is a brief pause. Dora is heard off R., humming 
the chorus of some popular song. She hums about eight 
bars, then John appears at window and peers cautiously in. 
He gazes in an instant, then opens door R. C, enters 
quickly and stands motionless with back to door, glancing 
nervously about room. Dora ceases her humming, 

Mrs. M. {off L.). Jane! (John starts nervously. She 
zvaits for an instant.) Jane! Did someone just come in? 
(Gives utterance to a prolonged, shuddering sigh, half 
groan. John shudders visibly. Slozvly draws gloves off.) 

Enter Jane R. 3 E. She carries a large dish filled zvith 
apples to table and sets it dozvn. Then turns as if to return 
to kitchen and discovers John at door. She recoils in sur- 
prise, then springs toward him with glad cry. 

Jane. Oh, John ! (He opens his arms and gathers her 
in a close embrace). Oh, John, I'm so glad you've come. 
(He loosens his clasp and gently thrusts her from him to 
his arm's length.) 

John. My darling! 

Jane. Why, John, how strange you act. You're not a 
bit glad* to see me. 

John (huskily). Glad to see you! Just see how glad I 
am. (Drazus her to him.) 

Jane (slyly drazving azvay). You're just in time. (Points 
to table.) We were just about to have some apples and 
cider. Dora is drawing the cider and Stubbie — (looks 
around). Why, Stubbie's gone! 

John (very nervous manner). Jane, dear, listen. I'm 
sorry- — awfully sorry, but I can't stop. (Twisting hat ner- 
vously between both hands and glancing agitatedly about.) 

Jane (bewildered). Sorry? Can't stop? Oh, John, what 
is the — you are in trouble. (Emotional business.) 

John (glances fearfully about). Yes, dear, I'm afraid 
I am — in deep trouble. (Again casting uneasy glances about 
room, then drazifs nearer to her and speaks in lozv, tense 
tone.) Last night twenty thousand dollars and some valu- 
able papers were taken from the big safe in Mr. Meadows' 
private office. (Hesitates, then goes on rapidly.) 1 — I have 



32 THE GOODFELLOW. 

been accused of the theft, and— and a warrant is out for 
my arrest — ■ 

Jane (interrupting with a stifled cry). John! You — you 
accused? (He bows head.) Look at me, John! Look at me 
and tell me that they lie ! Tell me you are innocent. You 
are innocent, aren't you, dear ? 

John (slowly raises his head and attempts to meet her 
gaze, then his head turns and droops, as if he were ashamed 
to meet her fixed look). I can't — I don't know. 

Jane (agitated surprise). You — don't — know? (Regains 
composure with an effort.) Surely, dear, you must know. 

John (hoarsely). I tell you I don't know. The money 
is gone — only Mr. Meadows and I knew the combination. 
I — I was not myself last night. I — (hangs head in shame.) 

Jane (sadly and zvith a half sob). Oh, John ! You were — 

John (interrupting fiercely). Don't you say it. Yes, I 
was — was drunk. So much so that I don't know what I did. 
Li the condition I was in, anything could have happened. 

Jane (eagerly). But, surely, the very fact that you — 
you were in that condition is an alibi, dear, and must prove 
that you never took the money. You haven't the money, 
have you? (He shakes his head in a vigorous denial.) 
The men you were with can testify that you were with them. 
You are safe. 

John (starts guiltily as a sound from without is heard, 
then he speaks hurriedly) . Listen, dear. I was alone for 
sometime last night. There's no chance for an alibi. I've 
thought it all out. I must go — run like the thief that per- 
haps I am and hide until my innocence is established. (A 
low whistle sounds off R. He starts to go.) 

Jane. John! No. Don't go! It will be harder for you 
if you do. 

John. No, no. (She grabs his arm, desperately trying 
to hold him.) I tell you I must go. 

Jane. Wait — here. (Quickly takes the hundred dollar 
bill from the bosom of her dress and presses it in his hand, 
shoves him toward door R. C.) 

John (at door, turns and kisses her, then looks at bill). 
Jane! I can't take this. (Extends it to her.) 



THE GOODFELLOW. 33 

Jane (pushing him away. Fiercely). Go! 

John (opens door cautiously, peers out, then quickly 
closes door again). Too late! They are watching. 

Jane (starts for L.). Come — this way, John. They 
shan't have you now. (At door L. 3 E.) This way — out 
the window. I'll try and hold them back as long as I can. 
(John kisses her lightly, then springs through window. She 
stands for an instant, one hand pressed to her heart, listen- 
ing intently, turns and comes slowly to C.) 

Enter Dora R. 3 E., carrying pitcher and drinking 
glasses. Sets them on table. Jane stands C, looking at L. 
3 E. 

Dora (cheerily). Here we are, dearie. (Looks at Jane, 
then about room in a quick, startled manner) . Why, what's 
the matter — and where's Stubbie? (Jane does not move. 
Loud commanding knock is heard at door R. C. Both girls 
whirl in affright and face door. A pause, then the knock 
is repeated, but louder. Jane starts slozvly for door. Dora 
to Jane, tremulously). Don't go — please don't. 

Jane (at door, to person outside). Who — who is there? 

Bacon (outside C). Open in the name of the law! 
(Jane slowly opens the door and then shrinks to one side. 
Dora stands at table, wide-eyed with astonishment.) 

Enter Bacon^ darting a swift, keen look about the room. 
His right hand is thrust deep in his overcoat pocket as if 
it clutched a weapon. He surveys the room again, turns to 
door, opens it and calls cls if to men outside. 

Bacon (looking L.). Murphy, stay where you are. 
(Looks R.) Halligan, keep your eyes open and shoot first, 
then ask questions. (Closes door, then turns and touches 
his hat to Jane in a stiff military salute. Brusquely.) You 
are Miss Madison? (Jane bozus head.) I am Detective 
Bacon, police headquarters. I have a warrant for the arrest 
of one John Dawson. Know him? (Jane again bows, then 
puts one hand on heart. Dora gives utterance to a cry of 
surprise. He looks from one girl to the other.) Thought 
you knew him. Trot him out ! 

Dora (to Bacon). You are a brute! 



34 THE GOODFELLOW. 

Jane {with a quick, meaning glance at Dora. Then to 
Bacon). Mr. Dawson is not here, sir; really, he isn't. {She 
hesitates, noticeably playing for time.) 

Bacon {sharply). Come; don't try to stall. There ain't 
a chance in the world of him gettin' away. I have the house 
surrounded. 

Jane {with forced calmness). I am not attempting- to 
deceive you. Mr. Dawson is not here. {To Dora_, as she is 
about to speak.) Hush, dear; it's all right. 

Bacon. Humph ! We've tracked him here. I'll get him. 
{Rapidly crosses to door L. 2 E.) What's in here? 

Jane {zuith dignity). My mother's room, sir. 

Bacon. Well, I'll take your word on this room. {Crosses 
quickly to door R. 2 E.) And what's in h.ere? (Dora 
smiles. ) 

Jane. Miss Peck's room, sir. 

Bacon {suspiciously). Never heard of her; maybe 'tis, 
maybe 'tisn't. {Raps smartly on door.) 

MARTB.A {within, sharply) . Well, what's wanted ? {Both 
girls smile.) 

Bacon {taken aback). I'm lookin' for one John Dawson. 

Martha. Well, if you think it a healthy job, you just 
try coming in here and looking for him — that's all. 

Bacon {turning from door with a chuckle). Nothin' 
doin'. I ain't flirtin' with no spell of sickness. {Goes to 
door R. 3 E. It is open and he looks in, then turns to 
Jane.) Now you gals will please stay right where you are. 
I'm goin' to take a peek in the kitchen here. {Turns to 
enter room but his exit is blocked by Hudson, who has 
stolen up zvhile Bacon has been addressing the girls.) 

Hudson {suavely). Good evening, sir. 

Bacon {recoiling a step. Growlingly). Who the devil 
are you? 

Hudson. I? Oh, my name is Hudson. Old Man Hud- 
son some folks are kind enough to call me. And you, sir? 

Bacon. Officer of the law. One side, please. 

Hudson {not moving). Dear, dear! An officer of the 
law. How very interesting! Business or social call, sir? 

Bacon. Business, you old fool! Get out of the way. 



THE GOODFELLOW. 35 

(Grabs Hudson and thriists him to one side, then exists R. 
3 E.) 

Hudson {looking from Jane to Dora, pensively). Dear, 
dear! He is such a rough person. {Goes quickly to Jane. 
Cautious tone.) It's all right, my dear. A little delay will 
mean much to your sweetheart. Hush ! {Puts a warning 
■finger on his lips, then goes quickly to sofa and sits in 
pensive attitude.) 

Enter Bacon, R. 3 E. 

Bacon (savagely) . Nothin' there but an empty kitchen 
and an old man asleep in a side room. (Darts a quick 
glance about, crosses quickly to door L. 3 E.) Any more old 
maids or darn fool old men in here? 

Jane (nervously). No — no, sir. That's the — the parlor, 
hall and stairway. (Clasping her hands nervously. Dora 
also betrays marked agitation.) 

Hudson (to Bacon). You're wasting time, sir. There's 
no one in there. 

Bacon (snappishly to Hudson). Mind your own busi- 
ness. 

Hudson (dryly). Thank you — I am. (sighs pensively.) 
Dear, dear ! (Bacon is about to exit L. 3 E., when Stubbie 
suddenly bumps into him and forces him backward a couple 
of steps. Dora gives a cry of glad surprise at sight of 
Stubbie.) 

Stubbie (to Bacon). Oh, I beg pardon. (Suddenly 
appearing to recognize Bacon.) Well, if it isn't my friend 
Ham. How are you, Ham- (Puts out a hand.) 

Bacon (snappishly). Bacon — not Ham, and you know 
darn well it's Bacon. (Trying to shove Stubbie to one 
side.) Get out of the way. 

Stubbie (zvith mock earnestness). Now, don't shove. 
If you get rough with me, I'll call an officer. 

Bacon (attempts to shove Stubbie to one side, but Stub- 
bie remains firm on his feet). See here, Stebbins; you're 
flirtin' with a stiff pimch in the jaw. You know me and you 
know that I get what I go after. I 'm after a certain party 
and I'm goin' to get him — see? Now stand to one side be- 



36 THE GOODFELLOW. 

fore you go out here on a lovely stretcher. (Displays the 
handle of his revolver from top of overcoat pocket.) 

Stubbie (laughingly). Oh, there's no need of any gun 
play, Ham. I'm not in the humor for stopping bullets to- 
night. (Still blocks doorway, playfully slapping Bacon on 
shoulder.) 

Dora (pleadingly). Stubbie — please! 

Jane. Yes, Stubbie, please let Mr. Bacon continue his 
search. 

Hudson. Yes, Stubbie, it's time the nice young police 
officer was home and in bed. (Chuckles.) 

Stubbie (laughs, steps to one side). All right, Mr. Ham. 
Go as far as you like. You're the great little detective ! 
(Bacon gives Stubbie a savage glance and exits L. 3 E. 
Stubbie bestows a knowing wink on the others and puts a 
finger on lips.) 

Jane (zvhisperingly, to Stubbie). Has he — has he gone? 

Stubbie (grinning). Surest thing you know, Jansie. 
(Jane and Dora exhibit relief.) 

Hudson (drawlingly) . You know, I am much afraid 
that I have assisted in some kind of a law-breaking act? 

Bacon re-enters L. 3 E. 

Bacon (stingingly) . You're a lot of smart ducks, you 
are. But it won't get you anywhere. My man's been here 
all right — here's his glove. (Holds up a kid glove. Jane 
and Dora start in surprise.) 

Stubbie (innocently, reaching for glove). Thanks. My 
glove. I wondered where I lost it. 

Bacon (drazving it avuay). Oh, no, you don't. I'll just 
keep this as a little souvenir of the occasion. (Goes quickly 
to door R. C, then turns.) I want to tell you folks some- 
thin', and it ain't a funny story. There's such a thing as 
aidin' an' abetin' a criminal. I wouldn't do it if I were you. 
Good night! (Pretends to exit, then turns and looks at 
halltree. To Stubbie, pointing at his overcoat.) Stebbins, 
is that your overcoat? 

Stubbie. Yes, Ham, it am. 

Bacon (goes quickly to it and draws out Stubbie's gloves 



. THE GOODFELLOW. Z7 

from a pocket. He looks at the single glove in his hand 
and holds it up.) So this is your glove is it, Stebbins? 
{Compares glove with Stubbie's, which are a bright yel- 
low, while the single glove is a more subdued color. 
Laughs.) I ain't much of a great detective, maybe, but 
here's one mystery I solve quick. Mr. Stebbins, you're a 
great little liar! (Bacon stands near halltree, holding pair 
of gloves in one hand and single glove in other, smiling 
triumphantly. Stubbie L. C, crestfallen attitude. Hudson 
on sofa, lights cigar. Jane and Dora, arms about each 
other, R., looking at Bacon, frightened expression.) 

Quick Curtain. 



Act II. 



Scene: Same as Act I, except that dining table is now 
covered with a red cloth and is bare of dishes, etc. 

At rise Jane is discovered at window, gating anxiously 
off L. Mrs. M. is seated in rocking chair, R. All the time 
her mother is on the stage Jane endeavors to conceal her 
terrible anxiety from her, but betrays it to the audience at 
various times. 

Mrs. M. {as curtain is well up). Jane! 

Jane {without change of position). Yes, mother, dear. 

Mrs. M., You're keeping something back from me. What 
is it? 

Jane {turning from window and striving to appear care 
free). Why, mother. What makes you think I am? {Forced 
laugh. ) 

Mrs. M. I know there is something . I can feel it. Come. 
Why don't you confide in me? 

Jane {now at her mother s side, drops on knee and cud- 
dles up to her). You dear old mother, I have nothing to 
confide — except that everything is going along swimmingly, 
the two boarders help out wonderfully, and — {turns face 
away) — and that is all I have to confide. 



38 THE GOODFELLOW. 

Mrs. M. (taking Jane's face between her hands, turning 
it so that she can look into Jane's eyes). My child, you are 
worried. I can see it in your pretty eyes — and there are lines 
about them. What is it, dearie? 'Fess up. 

Jane {smiling up into her mother's face). I repeat; I 
have nothing to 'fess up. 

Mrs. M. How is it between you and John? 

Jane {trying to conceal her agitation). John has been — 
{hesitates) — has been very good of late, mother. 

Mrs. M. {s ear chin gly) . Was he here last evening? 

Jane {slowly). Yes — just for a few moments. 

Mrs. M. I'm so glad. John is a good boy. I like him 
very much, and — and you will have someone to look out for 
you after I am gone. 

Jane {buries face in her mother's lap, while her shoul- 
ders heave with convtdsive sobs). Mother! 

Mrs. M. {patting Jane's head). There, there, child! 
{Sighs.) I do wish I could do something to help out. 

Jane {raising her head. Tenderly). My darling mother! 
You've "helped out" all your life. When I was ''little Jen- 
nie" you cuddled me, nursed me, deprived yourself of com- 
forts so that I might have more than my share ; took upon 
yourself all the disagreeable tasks ; accepted all the worry 
and strife with a smile on your dear kind face. And now— 
now that I am "big" Jane, it's only fair that I should "help 
out," and Fm going to do it. {'Draws herself proudly 
erect.) Mother, you've brought to mind all the things you've 
done for me — all your noble life! And you smiled as you 
did them. You had troubles, loads of them, yet you smiled 
through them all. You have set me an example, dear brave 
mother, and I shall profit by it. See ? I am going to smile 
and be brave, just as you did. {Stands zvith uplifted face, 
lighted up with a szueet, sad smile. Picture for a moment.) 

Mrs. M, {with a wistful smile). My own big, brave 
Jane! {Sighs.) But I'm dreadfully afraid I haven't "smiled 
through it all" lately, dear. I have been woefully cross and 
impatient, I know. {More cheerfully.) But you have also 
set me an example. From now on I'm going to be real 
good. 



THE GOODFELLOW. 39 

Jane (impulsively). You darling! As if you could be 
anything else. (Kisses her.) 

Enter Martha, R. 2 E. She is attired in a rather fan- 
tastic negligee costume. She carries a piece of fancy sew- 
ing, crosses to sofa, sits stiffly on its edge and begins to ply 
needle diligently. 

Mrs. M. Good morning, Miss Peck. I trust you had a 
good night's rest. (Jane crosses szviftly to back of sofa.) 

Martha (plying needle and not looking at Mrs. M.). I 
did, and I didn't. (Sews.) You know when one's nerves 
once get on edge, it's dreadful hard to coax 'em back to a 
normal state again. (Pause.) Now, last night I — 

Jane (pinches her shoulder). What a pretty piece of 
work you have there. 

Martha (looking wonderingly up into Janets face). 
What say? 

Jane (zvith a significant gesture. Aside). Mother must 
not know. 

Martha (comprehensively) . I'm so glad you admire it, 
dear. (Sighs.) Needle work, to me, is a positive recrea- 
tion. Some young women appear to have nothing to do 
nowadays but gallivant about with young men. (Impres- 
sively.) Not I! Whenever I feel myself getting lonesome, 
I take up my fancy work, and, presto, I am transported into 
the realms of perfect bliss. (Pause, while she plies needle.) 
It isn't because I'm not sought after, goodness knows ! Now, 
just last night— 

Jane (interrupting) . You enjoyed yourself at the church 
supper? 

Martha (testily). Am I to be permitted to relate what 
occurred last evening, or am I not? (Petulantly plys needle.) 

Mrs. M. (sighs). How I wish that I could go to the 
dear old church again. 

Jane ( ^^7/ behind Martha, shakes an admonishing -finger 
at her mother). Now, mother, remember your promise. 
No sighs. (Mrs. M. forces a smile.) Miss Peck, I'm quite 
sure, has plenty of male admirers, mother. Mr. Hudson has 
told me repeatedly how much he admires her. 



40 THE GOODFELLOW. 

Martha (with a sniff of contempt). Humph! It's little 
/ care which way the wind blows with him. I don't like 
that man! (Pause.) Besides, he's too old — much too old 
for me. (Coquettish business. Mrs. M. and Jane smile.) 

Jane (warmly). Mr. Hudson is a very agreeable gentle- 
man ; also a very charitable one. No person ever came to 
him in want and went away empty handed. 

Martha. All the same, I don't like him— talk all you 
wish. 

Henry puts head in door R. 3 E. 

Henry (to Jane^ in cautious tone). Jane! 

Jane. Yes, father. 

Henry (same cautious tone). Has Hudson gone out yet? 

Jane. No. He's still up in his room. Why? 

Henry (withdrawing head and speaking off stage). Oh, 
nothing. I'll go get some more coal, I guess. 

Martha (dryly). Your father is cultivating industrious 
habits this morning. (Change of tone.) As I was saying, 
I don't like Mr. Hudson (breaks off quickly and glances 
about at door R. 3 E. In wondering tone.) Now, will you 
please tell me where the connection is between "Is Mr. 
Hudson out?" and "I guess I'll get some more coal?" 

Jane (laughingly). You musn't mind father. 

yiAWY'R A (resuming work. Scornfully). Humph! I don't 
—any more than I mind any man. 

• Enter Hudson, L. 3 E. He scans the room carefully as 
is his custom. Carries his overcoat over one arm, hat in 
hand, also his heavy cane. 

Hudson (to Martha). Good morning, Miss Peck. Good 
morning, ladies. Nice morning. 

Martha (without turning. Aside). 'Twas before you 
came in. (Jane and Mrs. M. smile a greeting at him.) 

Hudson (comes to dining table, lays hat and overcoat 
on it, leans his cane against it. To Martha). Miss Peck, 
could I have a few moments of your time? (Martha turns 
slowly and favors him with a haughty stare.) 

Jane (hastily). I'll help mother in her room. (Starts.) 

Hudson (quickly to Jane). No, no ; nothing of a private 



THE GOODFELLOW. 41 

nature. Stay right where you are. {To Martha.) I am 
informed, Miss Peck, that you are largely interested in 
church affairs and charitable work. 

Martha (stiffly). I am. 

Hudson. In that case, I believe you can be of great as- 
sistance to me. (She stares. He seats himself at table ^ 
pulls a check hook and fountain pen from pocket). I am, as 
perhaps you know, also working along those lines. Being 
blessed with an abnormal accumulation of money — or cursed 
with it, depends on one's point of view — I desire your co- 
operation in a charitable distribution of some of my lucre. 

Martha (astounded). I help you spend your money? 

Hudson (with check hook open and pen poised). If you 
please, Miss Peck. Name the worthy institutions or the 
individuals, and I will do my humble share. 

Martha (still astonished). Mr. Hudson! Really, this is 
quite bewildering. (She turns for help from one lady to the 
other, hut they only smile and point to him.) 

Hudson (raises pen in right hand with a commanding 
gesture). In the name of charity. Miss Peck! 

Jane (to Hudson^ smilingly). You must give her time 
to catch her fleeting breath, sir. 

Hudson. Certainly, but — (pulls out watch and glances 
at the time) I have several appointments this morning. 
(Restores watch to pocket. Then to Martha.) Now, Miss 
Peck — if you please. 

Martha (eagerly). Well, there's the Grace Episcopal 
Church. We need many, many things. 

Y{\]T)SO^ (writing check). Grace Episcopal Church. We 
must see to it that we give them many, many things. 

Martha. And our pastor — he's such a splendid man ! 

Hudson (still writing). Good salary, I presume? 

Martha. He receives a dollar and a half a day, sir. 
(Pause.) Do you think that a man can be a Christian on 
a dollar and a half a day? 

Hudson (carefully tearing off check). On a dollar and 
a half a day a man can't be anything else but a Christian. 
(Lays check on table.) Now then, whom or what? 



42 THE GOODFELLOW. 

Martha (rapidly and enumerating on fingers). Well, 
there's the Amalgamated Society for the Prevention of Cru- 
elty to Cats; the Universal Society for the Promulgation 
and Education of Profane Parrots ; the Uplifting, Welfare 
and Eternal Home for Stray Dogs; the Anti-Cruelty to 
English Sparrows League; the Why-Swat-the-Fly Associa- 
tion of the United States and Great Britain; the Society 
for the Prevention of Manufacture of Inhuman Mouse 
Traps; th.e Antiseptic League for the Protection of the 
Unsuspecting Mosquito; the — 

Hudson (interrupting). Just a moment. Miss Peck. Isn't 
it only right that a human being should have the same chance 
to live and prosper as the various animals and insects you 
have mentioned ? (Martha is dumbfounded. ]ank and her 
mother smile.) ) 

Mrs. M. (gently, to Hudson). Miss Peck means v^ell, sir. 

Hudson (warmly). Undoubtedly, Mrs. Madison. But I 
can't see my money go that way. (To Martha.) Now, 
please try and think of two or three institutions, societies 
or leagues that exist for the welfare of mankind — (dryly) 
if there are any. 

Martha (stiffly). The Union Benevolent Hospital — very 
worthy institution, sir. 

Hudson. Very good, (j^n'f^^.) 

Jane. Yes, they do grand work, Mr. Hudson. (He nods 
and zvrites.) You are evidently not ambitious to die rich, 
Mr. Hudson. 

Hudson (dryly and still writing). I am not ambitious to 
die in any position, Miss Madison. (Tears off check and 
lays it with the other on table.) One more. Miss Peck, 
please, and then I shall ask one of the other ladies to name 
one. (Pen poised.) 

Martha (meditative pause). You wouldn't care to sub- 
scribe to the Universal Suffrage Movement, would yotl? 
(Mrs. M. and Jane langh.) 

Hudson (smiles). To be frank with you — no! (Strokes 
eyebrow.) 

Martha (stiffly). Oh, very well. Then perhaps you might 
do something for the local Y. M. C. A. 



• THE GOODFELLOW. 43 

Hudson (writes). Rushville Young Men's Christian As- 
sociation. Very good. (Tears off check and lays it with 
others. To Mrs. M.) Now, ma'am, it's your turn. 

Mrs. M. Suppose we say a little something for the Rush.- 
ville Orphan Asylum. 

Hudson (.$'7w7^^). Capital! (Writes.) Rushville Orphan 
Asylum. (Tears off check, then lays it with others, restores 
check book and pen to pockets, rises, goes to Martha and 
extends checks to her.) There you are. Miss Peck, and be- 
lieve me, I'm deeply obligated to you for your suggestions. 
I shall rely on you to see that the financial heads of the 
institutions named receive these checks. 

Martha (rising, bowing in old-fashioned manner and 
taking checks). Mr. Hudson, I am deeply honored by the 
trust you repose in my suggestions, and I heartily thank you 
for myself and in the name of those you have so kindly 
remembered. 

Hudson (bows, returns to table, picks up coat, hat and 
cane). Miss Peck, the pleasure is all mine. (To Mrs. M.) 
Mrs. Madison, I thank you, also. (To Jane, holding out 
his coat.) Miss Madison, this coat is rather heavy for an 
old man. 

Jane (springing to him eagerly). Why, of course. (Takes 
coat and holds it for him to get into. Martha goes to Mrs. 
M. and stands in pantomime conversation with her.) 
■ Hudson (to Jane in a guarded aside). Have you heard 
anything this morning — about last night? 

Jane (as she helps on zmth coat, guardedly) . No; not a 
word. I am so anxious. Mr. Hudson, I meant to return 
that bill you gave me last evening, but — but I couldn't find 
you, and now — 

Hudson (interrupting soothingly and going toward door 
R. C). Tut, tut! Everything will come out all right. I'm 
going down town now, and if anything new develops, I'll 
get word to you. (Takes her hand and bows low over it.) 
Goodby, and — God bless you ! (Exits R. C, turning L. and 
passing window, his cane tapping on stone zualk at regular 
intervals. Jane returns to the two women.) 



44 THE GOODFELLOW. 

Enter Henry from R. 3 E., overcoat and hat on. He 
sneaks cautiously across to door R. C. unseen by the others, 
and exits, following Hudson^ whose cane still sounds, but 
gradually dies away in the distance. 

' Martha {holding up checks and scanning them closely 
for the first time. Reads first one aloud.) ''Union Benevo- 
lent Hospital, $2,500." (Astounded.) My soul! (Looks at 
checks again.) There must be some mistake. (Scans it.) 
No ; it's quite plain. $2,500. 

Mrs. M. What a magnificent donation ! 

Jane. And from a stranger, too, almost. 

Martha (scanning second check, then reads it aloud). 
"Young Men's Christian Association, $2,500." (Breath- 
lessly.) Another twenty-five hundred dollars! (Looks all 
about room.) And he boards here! (Goes to sofa.) 

Jane (laughs). Yes, and appears to enjoy it. 

Martha (at sofa, reads third check aloud). "Rushville 
Grace Episcopal Church" (hesitates and scans figures closely 
again. Gaspingly.) $5,000!" (Drops weakly back onto 
sofa. ) 

Jane (springing to Martha, taking check from her hand 
and looking at it closely, then in awed tone). "Five thou- 
sand dollars !" (Looks all about the room much the same as 
Martha did.) And a man with that much money to give 
away, actually lives in our house. 

Mrs. M. (weakly extends check to Jane. Faintly). See 
what this one calls for. I'm — I'm too dizzy to read straight. 

Jane (takes check and reads impressively). "Rushville 
Orphan Asylum, $5,000!" (Martha drops limply against 
back of sofa.) 

Mrs. M. (delightedly). What a noble man! 

Martha (straightening tip, snappishly). That's what 
I've said right along, but I couldn't get anyone to agree 
with me. 

Jane (giving Martha check, smilingly). We shall never 
dispute you again. Miss Peck. 

Martha (impressively). Fifteen thousand dollars ! Just 
think of it! 



THE GOODFELLOW. 45 

Mrs. M. (earnestly). Oh, I'm so happy! 

Jane. We all are, mother dear — (sharp knock sounds on 
door R. C. Jane's expression undergoes a sudden change 
and she stands in tense, listening attitude for an instant.) 

Mrs. M. (to Jane). See who it is, dear. 

Jane (with an effort recovers composure). Yes, dear. 
(With another effort she summons all her will power, 
crosses to door and opens it.) 

Enter Bacon_, R. C. 

Bacon (touching hat stiffly, then smiles maliciously and 
closes door). Th.oug-ht Fd drop in, and — 

Jane (interrupting and signifying with a gesture that 
she doesn't want the others to hear). Oh, yes. You carae 
about the sewing machine. Just a moment, sir. (Turning 
to Martha.) Miss Peck, would you mind taking mother 
into your room for a few moments? 

Martha (rising with alacrity). Certainly — glad to. 
(Jane and Martha assist Mrs. M. to door R. 2 E.) 

Jane (kissing Mrs. M.). Miss Peck will show you all 
her new fancy work, dear. (Mrs. M. smiles.) 

Martha (to Jane). Fm too excited to talk fancy work 
now. Fifteen thousand dollars ! My, that's a lot of money 
to have in your hand all at one time. (Places an arm ten- 
derly about Mrs. M.'s waist and they exeunt R. 2 E.) 

Jane (seeing that door is closed tightly, then turning to 
Bacon). Now, sir? 

Bacon {clearing throat in an embarrassed manner). Well, 
F'il tell you. When I left here last night I was pretty sore. 
But after I "threw the pinch into him," I — 

Jane (excitedly). You — you found him? 

Bacon. Surest thing you know — just a few minutes ago. 
(Jane betrays strong agitation and he hesitates before 
speaking.) As I say, I was pretty sore last night at you 
folks for blocking my game, and I swore Fd get him, and 
when I did I'd come back here and give you the merry 
ha-ha. (Pauses and looks about the room, then sadly shakes 
his head and goes on in kinder tone.) But, somehow, I 



46 THE GOODFELLOW. 

ain't got the heart to. {Takes off Hat and twirls it ner- 
vously between his hands.) 

Jane (stands an instant with head bowed on breast, 
strong emotion shaking her body, partially recovers her 
composure, raises head and looks him proudly in the face.) 
He is innocent! 

Bacon {dryly). Yes, ma'am; that's what they all say. 
But everything looks bad and all against him. 

Jane. You have no evidence against him— nothing but 
suspicion. 

Bacon. Well, it ain't for me to say, I only done my 
duty. But it looks bad for him. He skipped ; he won't talk, 
and when we searched him at the station we digs up a hun- 
dred dollar bill. 

Jane {starts guiltily, then quickly). Is h.e guilty because 
he was found to have a hundred dollar bill in his posses- 
sion? 

Bacon {cautiously) . It ain't for me to say, ma'am. The 
Captain says that a big lot of the loot was in one hundred 
dollar gold certificates; that's all. (Janets right hand goes 
to her heart and she staggers backward a step or two. He 
moves toward door R. C, turns.) Captain Richards' com- 
pliments, ma'am, and he asks that you be at his office at 
two this afternoon. 

Jane {surprised). I? At Captain Richards' office? 

Bacon. Yes, ma'am. Just wants to ask you a couple of 
questions. 

Jane {firmly). Very well, sir. I shall be there promptly. 

Bacon. Thank you, ma'am. {Turns to depart, stops, 
■fingers hat nervously and hesitates before speaking.) I 
heard the old maid dame ravin' somethin' about fifteen thou- 
sand dollars just a minute ago. (Jane bows head.) Course 
it ain't none of my business, but bein' a detective, I'm just 
naturally curious. 

Jane {with calm assurance) . The fifteen thousand dol- 
lars she had reference to has no bearing on the — the case 
you are interested in, sir. 

Bacon {keenly looking into her face; she does not flinch). 
I guess you ain't lyin', ma'am. Besides, I know this ain't 



THE GOODFELLOW. 47 

no hang-out for crooks. If I thought it was I'd back the 
wagon up in a holy minute. But I'll have to report the old 
maid's chatter to the Captain — that's my duty. But you 
ain't in on the deal; I'll bet my life you aint. Anythin' I 
can do for you, bingo {snaps fingers) and it's done. Now, 
don't you git discouraged. I've seen sicker cats than this 
git well. Goodby. See you at two. {Exits R. C, hut not 
passing window.) 

Jane (stands for an instant after his exit, facing door, 
turns and comes slowly down to C. Stands with uplifted 
face for a moment as if breathing a prayer). God give me 
strength to fight my fight! {Turns and paces hack and 
forth from R. to L., as if struggling to ohtain command 
over herself.) 

Stubbie and Dora pass windozv, then Stubbie raps on 
door R. C. and opens it without zvaiting for Jane to respond. 
He looks off R., supposedly at the departing detective. 
Dora looking over his shoulder, then he turns to Jane. 

Stubbie {to Jane). Has that near detective been hand- 
ing you any rough language? (Dora slips hy him and 
comes to Jane in a consoling manner.) 

Jane. No, Stubbie; he was very nice. 

Stubbie {coming in and closing door after him). Humph ! 
I can't picture him being very nice any way you take him. 
He told you? 

Jane. About John? Yes. {Sadly hows head, raises it 
again. Cheerfully.) Mr. Bacon told me not to be discour- 
aged — and I am going to follow his advice. 

Dora {kisses Jane zuarmly). That's the way, dearie. I 
love you for 'those words. {Kisses her again.) 

Stubbie {to Jane). I heard about the arrest and hur- 
ried here to tell you, but Mr. Sherlock Holmes beat me to it. 

Dora {taking off hat and jacket). Yes — and we met on 
the way here. 

Stubbie {grinning) . She means she met me — not Sher- 
lock Holmes. But I haven't any time to linger, girls. Duty 
calls and I must beat it. The hungry public is waiting to 
devour the delicacies which will be served to them in our 



48 THE GOODFELLOW. 

afternoon edition — and I am the chef ! (Starts for door 
R. C.) 

Dora (sternly). Stubbie Stebbins! (He stops.) Don't 
you dare go! 

Stubbie. Hey? Oh, say, I've got a lot of work, you 
know — the paper can't wait. 

Dora (stamping a foot angrily). I don't care. You must 
choose between me and that horrid paper — once and for all. 
(Pouts.) 

Jane (laughs). There's a storm brewing. I'm going to 
run for shelter. (Goes to door R. 3 E., stops on threshold.) 

Stubbie (grinning, to Jane). Oh, it's all right. (Be- 
gins to remove overcoat.) I find I have a few minutes to 
spare. (Hangs coat up. Dora smiles.) 

Jane (as if struck with a sudden thought). Stubbie, 
Mr. Hudson gave fifteen thousand dollars to charity, a lit- 
tle while ago. 

Stubbie (whirls about in astonishment to her). Whew! 
(Stares stupidly at Jane.) 

Dora (to Stubbie, sarcastically) . That was an awfully 
clever remark, Mr. Stebbins. (Jane smiles.) 

Stubbie (to Dora). Gee whiz! She took my breath 
away ! Fifteen thousand dollars ! Whew ! He gave that much 
away, and I can't afford to smoke good cigars. 

T)ORA (dryly). Yes, I've noticed that. (Stvbbik winces.) 

Jane (to Stubbie, thoughtfully). I don't know why I 
spoke about it as I did, but, somehow, it flashed through my 
brain that I must mention the fact to you, and I did. 

Stubbie (loftily). You did perfectly right, Jansie. We 
reporters must be kept posted. 

Jane (thoughtfully). Of course it is merely a coinci- 
dence — (then quickly). Oh, what am I saying? 

Stubbie (gazing at her thoughtfully). Jansie,. there's a 
whole lot sometimes in that unfathomable thing called 
"woman's instinct." (Jane and Dora start in surprise.) 
It's a good hunch to draw cards to in a game, and — 
(change of tone.) Say, I've seen that Hudson chap be- 
fore, and — 

Dora (interrupting, to Stubbie). Stubbie Stebbins, be- 



THE GOODFELLOW. 49 

have! I simply won't listen to any reflections concerning 
Mr. Hudson. (Stubbie throws up both hands and turns 
away.) 

Jane {to Dora). I dislike to believe there's anything 
suspicious about Mr. Hudson, but — {hesitates) but the 
hundred dollar bill he gave me last night {hesitates again) 
was found on John when he was searched. 

Stubbie {whirling and facing Jaisie). Well? What's the 
answer ? 

Jane {slowly). I gave the bill to John, and Detective 
Bacon claims that some of the money stolen was in one 
hundred dollar bills. 

Stubbie {striking palm of one hand forcibly with fist of 
other). Then Hudson is the — 

Dora {sharply). Stubbie — don't say it. You are jump- 
ing at conclusions. 

Stubbie. Well, gee whiz — let me jump. I won a medal 
once for jumping in my Freshman year. 

Jane {to Dora). You're right, dear; we mustn't be 
hasty. I'll leave you two together while I finish, my work, 
and then get ready to go down town. {Exit R. 3 E.) 

Dora. Stubbie Stebbins, I've long been obsessed with 
the idea that you were insufficiently supplied with brains, 
and now the idea has developed into a strong conviction. 

Stubbie {at sofa, sits slowly , eibozvs on knees, in his 
thoughtful way). You can "pan" me all you want, but I'll 
make you change your mind yet. {Unconsciously his hand 
strays to an eyebrow and he strokes it, a la Hudson man- 
ner, staring into space.) 

Dora {sits on sofa beside him. Pause). I don't think 
you're a bit nice, Mr. Stebbins. {Pouts.) 

Stubbie {dreamily) . I get him and then I don't get him. 
{Rousing.) Gee whiz, but it makes me sore! {Puts both 
hands to his head.) 

Dora {plaintively). You're not paying a bit of attention 
to me. 

Stubbie {facing her quickly). I beg your pardon. Did 
you speak? 

Dora {rising coldly). No. 



50 THE GOODFELLOW. 

Stubbie (pulling her down beside him, laughingly). Be- 
have! 

Dora. You're always thinking- — but not always about 
me. 

Stubbie. Well, what about me? I've got a kick coming, 
I guess. You are going motoring with Freddie Browning 
tomorrow afternoon. (Pouts.) 

Dora (teasingly) . Well, and what if I am? He's a very 
nice boy ; and he has lovely blue eyes. 

Stubbie. Yes, and a yellow streak. 

Dora. And he has such a swell car, too. 

Stubbie (sourly). I'll bet he stole it. 

Dora (sternly). Mr. Stebbins ! 

Stubbie. Say, that guy couldn't put his hands into his 
own pockets without stealing something. 

Dora (laughs, then soothingly). There, there, Stubbie. 
I was only teasing you. You know I like you best of all, 
and all the time I'm out with Freddie I'll be thinking of 
you. 

Stubbie (gloomily). Well, I don't care for absent treat- 
ment. 

Dora (laughs and kisses him on the cheek). There's a 
little token of my esteem. Now cheer up. You look like a 
first-class funeral. Besides, you have nothing to complain 
of. Think of poor John. (Sighs.), Just think, Stubbie; if 
I hadn't prevailed, on you to stop your drinking, you might 
have committed some such foolish thing — or crime. 

Stubbie. You? You made me stop drinking? 

Dora. Yes, I kept you from drinking and you should 
thank me. 

Stubbie (gloomily). I'd be glad to thank you if you'd 
keep me from getting fat. But, never mind, sweet child. 
(Rises.) I'm going to duck and leave you with Jansie. I've 
got a terrible lot to do today. (Goes tozvards halltree for 
coat and hat.) 

Dora (follozmng him). Hudson, you mean? 

vStubbie (slipping into coat). You're the great little 
guesser. (At door.) I'm going to get that eyebrow thing 
if I have to give him the Third Degree. (He raises right 



THE GOODFELLOW. 51 

hand and is about to bring it down, into the palm of other 
for emphasis, when he 'checks it half zvay down, his face 
changes expression and he stares into space, as if a vision 
of the past had risen suddenly before his eyes. Then he 
passes a hand over forehead and eyes as if brushing some- 
thing away, and turns to her excitedly.) The minute I said 
'Third Degree" I got him. I remember now. That's what 
he was up against the last time I saw him — "The Third 
Degree !" I've got him ! I've got him ! The time, the place 
and the man! (Dora starts as though to speak, but he si- 
lences her with a quick gesture.) No time now to unload. 
(6^^// more excitedly.) It's going to be the greatest scoop 
in modern journalism. Out of my way, everybody ! {Dashes 
to door R, C.) Keep your eye on Stubbie Stebbins, the late 
dead one, but now the great little live wire. {Exits madly 
through door, banging it shut behind him, minus hat and 
not passing " windozv. ) 

Dora {bewildered by his outburst, slowly regains normal 
condition, taps forehead zvith tips of fingers). Poor Stub- 
bie ! He's clean gone ! {Looks at halltree, discovers his hat 
is still there, picks it up and runs to door, opens it and yells 
after him.) Stubbie, you've left your hat! 

Stubbie {off L., some distance away). I'm in a hurry. 
To hell with, the hat! (Dora starts back in shocked sur- 
prise, then comes in and hangs hat on rack, is about to turn 
and cross to R., when sharp knock on door R. C.) 

Dora (startled). Who's there? {Opens door.) 

Enter Meadows, followed closely by Woodstock. Mead- 
ows takes off hat and bozus with great ceremony to Dora. 
Woodstock takes off hat, stands cringingly at door, brush- 
ing hat carefully zuith palm of hand. 

Meadows (zuith a smirk and speaking in a thin squeaky 
voice). I am Richard Meadows, young woman. 

Dora {coolly). You are, indeed! I would know you any- 
where. 

Meadows {turning to Woodstock). She would know 
me anywhere. 



52 THE GOODFELLOW. 

Woodstock (still brushing hat, mournfully repeats). 
She would know you anywhere. 

Dora (to Meadows). Stubbie says that you are one of 
our best little coin collectors. 

Meadows (testily). I don't care to listen to gossip. I 
called to see Miss Madison. 

Dora (sarcastically) . She'll be bubblins^ over with pure 
delight, I'm sure. I'll tell her you're here. (With an 
amused look at the men, exits R. 3 E. Meadows unwinds 
a very long m,uffler from about his neck, while Woodstock 
still maintains the same position at door, stolidly brushing 
hat. Meadows^ with great care, hangs up his muffler and 
hat and unbuttons overcoat.) 

Enter Jane, R. 3 E. Shows that she both dislikes and 
fears him. 

Jane (to Meadows, coldly). Mr. Meadows, I told you 
last time you called here, that I never wished to see you 
again. 

Meadows {rubs hands together and leers at her). I 
know you did; but that's been sometime ago, and events 
sometimes arise in this terrible world of ours which often 
completely change the aspect of our prospects, hopes and 
ambitions. (Looks all about in search of a seat, then goes 
to sofa.) With your permission, my dear, I'll sit down. 
What I have to say to you may consume some time. One 
never knows. (Jane displays annoyance, but bows a cold 
assent. He pulls out a large red bandanna handkerchief, 
carefully dusts off sofa, just as carefully restores handker- 
chief to his pocket and then consumes several moments in 
sitting down, as if every joint in his body were rusty with 
age. Sighs wearily as he -finally sits. Jane, meanwhile, has 
eyed him in scornful silence. He rubs his hands and eyes 
her gloatingly.) Miss Madison, I came to tell you that the 
man whom you saw fit to bestow your beautiful hand upon, 
is in the custody of the police. 

Jane (zvinces, then coldly). You are telling me some- 
thing which I already know. 

Meadows (turning about to Woodstock, who is in the 



THE GOODFELLOW. 53 

same position at door). Woodstock, you morbid wretch, 
you hear that ? She already knows ! 

Woodstock (mournfully repeats). She already knows. 

Meadows (turning to Jane, sternly). And who had the 
audacity to presume to forestall my pleasure in this matter? 

Jane (surprised). Your pleasured Did you say, pleasure? 

Meadows (rubs hands together). Exactly what I said — 
pleasure. I wanted to be the first to impart the information 
to you, and hurried here at my utmost speed. 

Jane (scornfully). Did you walk or ride? 

Meadows. I walked. I walked and — saved a nickel ! 
(Chuckles and rubs palms together, miser-like.) 

Jane (disgusted) . And now that you have imparted your 
very joyfid tidings, permit me to wish you a good day. 
( Turns. ) 

Meadows (quickly). Stay! Not so fast, young lady — not 
so fast! (Chuckles zvickedly and rubs palms.) I am only 
just begun. You know that Dawson has been arrested, but 
do you also know that he will be sent to prison? 

Jane (spiritedly) . I am not aware of anything of the 
kind. He is innocent! 

Meadows (spitefully). Bah! He is guilty! He robbed 
me and must take the consequences. You know he got my 
money — my beautiful money — you are trying to shield him. 

Jane (with spirit). Mr. Meadows, you insult me. I shall 
not listen to another word. (Again turns as if to depart.) 

Meadows (sharply). Stop! I warn you not to go. (She 
turns and faces him haughtily.) I never insult anyone. (To 
Woodstock.) Do I, Woodstock? 

Woodstock (as before). You do, sir 

Meadows (snarlingly) . I do not, you scoundrel! (To 
Jane.) I never talk anything of the least importance to 
anybody unless in the presence of my legal adviser. (Indi- 
cates Woodstock.) 

Jane (sarcastic smile). You must obtain very good ad- 
vice from him, I'm sure. 

Meadows (snappishly). That's what I pay him for, 
Miss. (Rubs palms together and leers amorously at her.) 
You are a very pretty girl, my dear — very pretty! (She 



54 THE GOODFELLOW. 

flushes angrily.) Oh, no offense, I assure you. {To Wood- 
stock.) Woodstock, you stingy wretch! Do I lay myself 
liable in calling Miss Madison a very pretty girl? 

Woodstock {as before). You do not, sir. She is very 
pretty. (Sighs mournfully.) 

Meadows (to Jane). But that remark was merely a 
prelude. (Clears throat.) A few months ago I did you the 
exalted honor of asking you to become Mrs. Richard 
Meadows. 

Jane (scornfully). Honor? I do not so consider it! 

Meadow^s (testily). You are not the one to be consid- 
ered. It is I, Richard Meadows, the richest man in this 
part of the country, who is to be considered. (Taps breast 
proudly.) 

Jane (at table, leaning over back of chair and gazing 
at hifn s ear chin gly) . Mr. Meadows, just what is the con- 
crete object of your visit here today? 

Meadows (smirks, rubs palms together and leers at her, 
then trying to smile). Can't you guess? Can't you read it 
in my eyes? Can't you see that my heart is again young 
and that it beats in love's sweet unison — all for you ? 

Jane (amused in spite of herself at this speech). Mr. 
Meadows, you 'have been reading "Lady Laura's Love 
Stories." 

Meadows (thinking she is surrendering to his suit, 
smiles). Ah, you will have your little joke. (Chuckles.) I 
knew, I felt that you could be won. I have said to myself, 
over and over again, "Richard, keep up a brave heart. She 
is merely a child. She knows not her own heart. Give her 
a little time and she will yield. She will some day recog- 
nize the true worth in sterling Richard Meadows." 

Jane (zuith dignity). Mr. Meadows, this interview is 
fast becoming embarrassing to me. It was not of my seek- 
ing, and I refuse to listen to more of your insults. Now, 
go! 

Meadows (astounded). Insults? (Snarlingly.) You con- 
sider it an insult for Richard Meadows to ask a girl in your 
standing to become Richard Meadows' wife? 

Jane (firmly). I-'do! (Turns to depart.) 



THE GOODFELLOW. 55 

Meadows (warningly). I wouldn't go if I were you. I 
came here to ask you to marry me — and for myself alone — 
but since you reject my offer, there are other means of 
forcing you. If not for me, you shall do it to save an- 
other. (She winces.) You shall listen to me. (Hurriedly.) 
I hold the fate of John Dawson in the hollow of my hand. 
I can make or I can break him — do you understand? 
There is but one way to save him from going to prison, 
and that way is through you. 

Jane (agitatedly). I? I have a way to save him? 

Meadows (excitedly and hurriedly). John Dawson stole 
my money — ah, it's true ; you needn't look that way. I have 
witnesses to prove that he was seen coming out of the bank 
late that night. He claims he was not there. He lies ! 
There are other incriminating facts against him, I say you 
can save him, and so you can. Promise that you will marry 
me and I shall withdraw the charge against him. Refuse, 
and the law shall take its course. (Leans eagerly towards 
her.) 

Jane (dazed, then slowly recovering) . I — I do not un- 
derstand. John is innocent ; but even if he were guilty, you 
could not save him. The law must take its course. 

Meadows (eagerly and looking craftily all about). No, 
no. I can say that I have been mistaken. That the money 
was not in the safe ; that I mislaid it ; and that I found it 
some other place. (Rubs palms together.) Don't you see 
how that could be done? (To Woodstock.) That could be 
done. Couldn't it, you rascal? 

Woodstock (as before). It could be done, sir — very 
neatly. 

Jane (to Meadows, emotionally). Have you no pity — 
no spark of manhood in your hideous makeup? What have 
1 ever done to you — to anyone in the world — that I should 
be made a sacrifice -of ? (Draws herself proudly erect.) 
But I shall not believe what you say, or what others say of 
him. John Dawson is innocent! 

Meadows (snarlingly) . I tell you, he is a thief! But in- 
nocent or guilty, he shall go to prison unless you consent 
to marry me. I tell you I hold his fate here! (Thrusts out 



56 THE GOODFELLOW. 

his hands towards her, clawing and convulsively opening 
and shutting them, leering zvickedly.) Speak! Which shall 
it be — a prison for your lover, or — {leers at her, twitch- 
ing hands). 

Jane {recoiling in loathing and covering face with 
hands). No, no! {Moaningly.) Oh, what shall I do ! What 
shall I do! {Sobs.) 

Meadows {gloatingly). There is but the one way! See! 
{Rises with a great effort and holds out his arms to her.) 
Come ! I offer you the love and protection of an honest 
man — a husband you will be justly proud of — and John 
shall go free! 

Jane {peers at him through her fingers, shudders, then 
lowers her hands, clasping and unclasping them agitatedly.) 
I would do anything — make any sacrifice to save him. {He 
smiles in triumph and takes a step towards her, hut she 
checks him by a gesture.) Wait! I cannot bring myself to 
— to promise now. Give me a few moments to — to think. 
{Again he steps toward her; she turns in loathing.) No, 
no; I tell you I must think! {Crosses quickly to L. 3 E., 
turns to him.) I must think it all out for myself. There 
is ncme to advise me. I am alone — alone ! {Staggers from 
room, sobbing.) 

Meadows {looks gloatingly after her, then turns to 
Woodstock^ chuckling and rubbing palms together). It's 
going to work out, you dog! It's working better than I 
expected. {Chuckles zvickedly.) 

Woodstock {as before). Yes, sir — ^better than I ex- 
pected. 

Meadows {craftily). I'm not so sure that I shall have 
the charge against Dawson withdrawn — when she's once 
my wife. {Again chuckles wickedly.) What say you, you 
scoundrel ? 

Woodstock {as before). My advice, sir, is to let him go 
to prison — after Miss Madison becomes Mrs. Meadows. 

Meadows {snappishly). I shall not pay you for that ad- 
vice. It was entirely my own idea, you villain ! 
Woodstock {mournfully) . It does not matter, sir. 



THE GOODFELLOW. 57 

Meadows (testily). What do you mean? Don't I pay 
you? 

Woodstock (dolefully). Yes, sir — nearly. 

Meadows. Then cease your eternal whimpering*. (Rubs 
palms together, turns and gazes gloatingly at L. S E.) I 
hope she won't be long. I am most anxious to clasp her to 
my hungry heart. (Chuckles wickedly and rubs hands.) 

The tap, tap of Hudson^s cane is heard as he comes rap- 
idly towards the door R. C. Meadows and Woodstock be- 
come rigidly intent. Enter Hudson. He glances quickly 
about and smiles contemptuously as his eyes fall upon the 
two men. Meadows glares uneasily at him. 

Hudson (to Meadows). Dear, dear! What an honor to 
fall on this humble home ! Mr. Richard Meadows pays us 
a visit. (With mock politeness.) Have you been received, 
sir? 

Meadows (nervously, but attempting a geniality). Oh, 
yes. I am waiting for Miss Madison. (Rubs hands.) 

Hudson (peering suspiciously about). Humph! I sup- 
posed a busy man like you would have no time to wait for 
anyone. 

Meadows (sharply). My time is my own. I wait for 
whom I choose. 

Hudson (mildly). Dear, dear! I really must apologize. 
I am stopping here, you know. I am a lover of the simple 
life, that is why. Of course, you know these things, but 
you are likewise aware of the fact that we have met before. 

Meadows (grudgingly). I saw you yesterday in my 
bank, also on two or three other occasions. 

Hudson. Yes, you were kind enough to cash a draft for 
me yesterday. I thanked you yesterday — again I thank you. 
(Bows mockingly.) 

Meadows (impatiently and glancing at L. 3 E.). I have 
no time to talk shop now. I have other matters to consider. 
(Scozvls at Hudson.) 

Enter Jane, L. 3 E., and Dora, R. 3 E., simultaneously. 
They stop just inside each door expectantly. 

Hudson (glancing quickly at the two girls. To Mead- 



58 THE GOODFELLOW. 

ows). You'll pardon me, Mr. Meadows, but I am so dread- 
fully absent-minded and careless regarding money matters. 
Do you call to mind the amount of the draft you so kindly 
cashed for me? 

Meadows (proudly). Certainly. I pride myself on money 
data. I gave you two one hundred dollar bills and six fifty 
dollar bills — $500 — the amount the draft called for. 

Hudson (again glancing quickly at the girls. To Mead- 
ows). Thank you, sir. I believe that is absolutely correct. 
(Bows mockingly, crosses to L. 3 E., glances keenly into 
Jane's face and notes its troubled expression. Aside to 
her.) What is it? Can I do anything? 

Jane (aside to him). No — nothing. I have a message 
for him. (Indicates Meadows; crosses to him at R. C. 
Spiritedly.) Mr. Meadows, I have considered your highly 
flattering offer, and have decided — 

Meadows (interrupts with a wicked chuckle). Yes, I can 
see it in your eyes. You have decided — 

Jane. I have decided — 

Mrs. M. (off R., calls). Jane! Did somebody just come 
in? 

Jane (szvift change of expression, smiles peace ftdly). I 
shall not marry you. I am going to smile — and be brave! 
(Dora and Hudson step forward a couple of paces in ex- 
cited manner.) 

Meadows (recoils, then steps ' towards her in snarling 
rage). You — you refuse? (Cackling, wicked laugh.) We 
shall see about that. You promised to marry me, and I 
have a reputable witness to that effect. (Indicates Wood- 
stock.) I decline to accept your refusal. (Working grad- 
ually into an insane fury.) Do you hekr me, you fickle jade? 
I refuse to be shoved aside. I am Richard Meadows ! Do 
you realize what it means to have Richard Meadows for 
an enemy? If you don't you shall soon learn. I never fail 
to get what I 'go after. Now I want you — damn you! I 
want you ! (Suddenly throws his arms about her and at- 
tempts to drazv her to him. She struggles and throzvs him 
off. Dora rtins to assist her, but Hudson, with a quick rush, 
grabs Meadows and hurls him violently to the floor. Wood- 



THE GOODFELLOW. 59 

STOCK gives a gasp of dismay and heats a hasty retreat 
through door R. C.) 

(Picture: Meadows on floor R. C, glaring insanely up 
at Hudson^ zvho is looking coldly down on him, one hand 
raised to eyebrozv, stroking it. Dora^ L. C, doing a skirt 
dance of triumph. Jane goes szviftly to door R. 2 E., 
opens it.) 

Jane (looking in door). No, mother, dear; somebody is 
just going out ! 

Quick Curtain. 

Second Curtain. 

(Meadows at door R. C, about to exit, Dora extending 
his hat to him, holding it daintily between thumb and -finger. 
Hudson at L. 3 E., looking at Meadows. Jane at R. 2 E., 
smiling at Meadows.) 

Dora (to Meadows, extending hat). Mr. Meadows, 
here's your hat! What's your hurry! 

Quick Curtain. 



Act III. 



Scene : Captain Richards' office in police headquarters. 
Boxed chamber in ''three,'' with practical doors R. and L. 
and window in back flat C, looking out at adjoining build- 
ings. The furniture consists of a flat-top desk and swivel 
chair C. and a small straight back chair at either side of 
desk. A desk telephone sets on end of desk. 

At rise Richards is discovered at desk, busily writing. 
He lays dozun pen as curtain is well up, blots paper, folds 
it up and lays it to one side. Sorts over papers on top of 
desk, then lays the different sheets about him in methodical 
wanner, whistling softly the while. He takes out zuatch, 
notes time, snaps case shut again and opens it and snaps it 
shut zmth a preoccupied manner. He finally restores zvatch 
to his pocket. He does all these things as if he were think- 



60 THE GOODFELLOW. 

ing out his plan of action for the coming cross-examination 
or Third Degree. It should be done in a manner to create 
''atmosphere" and arouse the audience to a tense state of 
suspense. He swings about in chair and surveys the room, 
rests one elbow on arm of chair, and with chin on hand 
wrinkles his brows in thought. He rises suddenly, goes to 
window and gazes out. Puts his hands in pockets, whistles 
in absent-minded manner, squares his shoulders, turns and 
comes briskly to desk and picks up telephone. 

Richards {into phone). Hello, Henderson. This is 
Richards. Seen anything of that newspaper reporter? No? 
(Growlingly.) No, he didn't kill anybody. I just want him, 
that's all. Now, get busy. (Hangs up receiver and presses 
button at side of desk.) 

Enter Bacon, door R., pauses just inside door and touches 
hat in military style. 

Bacon. Yes, Cap? 

Richards. You got all those folks lined up out there? 
(Bacon nods head. The Captain consults slip of paper 
on desk, then picks up a pen.) Call 'em w^hile I check 'em. 

Bacon {taking slip of paper from pocket, reading names). 
Jane Madison. 

Richards {checking off name). Miss Madison— good 
looker. 

Bacon {reading from. slip). Martha Peck. 

Richards {checking name). Martha Peck — not so much 
so. 

Bacon {from slip). Dora Woodruff. 

Richards {checks name). Dora Woodruff — a pippin. 

Bacon. Henry Madison. 

Richards. Henry Madison — old fossil. 

Bacon. Richard Meadows. 

Richards. Richard Meadows — I hope he chokes. 

Bacon. Hey? 

Richards. Nothin'. Go ahead, Steve. 

Bacon. Old Man Hudson, and — that's all. 

Richards {throwing down pen angrily). It's not all, 
either. Where's Stebbins? 



THE GOODFELLOW. 61 

Bacon (uneasily). I don't know. 

Richards (leans back in chair and surveys Bacon 
coldly. Deep sarcasm). You're a fine detective! What the 
devil do you draw money for, anyhow? 

Bacon. Say, Cap, go easy. I done a good job on this 
case, and there ain't no spankin' comin' to me. 

Richards. Bah ! You talk like a second-hand doughnut. 
(Bangs fist on desk.) Say, when I tell you to bring in a 
guy, I want him brought in. Get me, Steve? (Bacon nods 
sullenly. Thoughtful pause.) When's the last you or one 
of the boys saw this Stebbins guy? 

Bacon. Last report I gits on him, he's doin' a fast Mar- 
athon down the street — with no hat on. 

Richards (stares at Bacon). No hat on; running? Why 
no hat? 

Bacon. Search me. But don't worry. We'll git him. 

Richards (growiingly) . You'd better. (Consults paper 
on desk.) What's Old Man Hudson's first name? 

Bacon. Don't know. Don't think he's got one. 

Richards. Humph ! I'm gettin' a fine line of informa- 
tion from you. You nearly know somethin'. (Sharply.) 
Bring in Meadows. (Looks frowningly down at paper on 
desk.) 

Bacon (opens door R., calls sharply). Mr. Meadows! 
(Then holds door open for Meadows' entrance.) 

Enter Meadows, followed closely by Woodstock. They 
stop just inside door, remove hats and stand expectant, 
azved silence. Bacon glances at them in an amused manner, 
then exits. Meadows and Woodstock keep a zuary eye on 
Richards, who is still studying paper on desk. A pause of 
about twenty seconds. 

Meadows (clearing throat nervously). Ahem! (Rich- 
ards turns slowly, favors him with a cold stare, then re- 
turns again to the study of his paper. Meadows sUnks 
closer to Woodstock and zvhispers in his ear, zvatching 
Richards the while. Woodstock listens, shakes his head 
and starts as though to leave the room, but Meadows 
clutches his arm and entreats him in pantomime to stay.) 



62 THE GOODFELLOW. 

Richards (without looking up from paper, calls sharply). 
Richard Meadows ! 

Meadows {zvith a quick start of fright). Yes — yes, sir. 

Richards (still scanning paper). Come here! (Meadows 
walks in trembling manner to desk.) Sit down! (Meadows 
goes to chair R. of desk, takes out his red handkerchief and 
carefully diists chair, then comedy business of sitting down. 
Richards stares at him in open-mouthed astonishment the 
zvhile. Woodstock stands at door, brushing hat.) 

Meadows (finally seated, sighs). Well, Tm here, Cap- 
tain. 

Richards (aside). Ain't it a shame that a man like this 
is allowed to live and men like George Washington and 
Abraham Lincoln had to die. (To Meadows, referring to 
paper on desk. Brusquely.) I want to get the bullseye on 
this thing, Mr. Meadows, so I'll know what I'm shootin' 
at. • First, you claim your loss is twenty thousand cash ^nd 
valuable securities. Right? 

Meadows. That's right, sir. (To Woodstock at door.) 
That's correct, isn't it, Woodstock? 

Woodstock (nervously brushing hat; mournful tone). 
Quite right, sir. 

Richards (zvhirlin^ about and darting a scozvling glance 
at Woodstock. Then to Meadows.) Say, what's the idea? 
(Indicates Woodstock.) 

Meadows. That's my legal adviser. Captain. 

Richards (grozdingly). Well, tell him to shut up! 

Meadows (meekly). Yes, sir. (To Woodstock, sharply.) 
Woodstock, shut up. 

Woodstock (mournftd voice). Yes, sir; thank you, sir. 

Richards (to Meadows). Got a list of them securities? 
(All through the scene zvith Meadows he shozi/s that he cor- 
dially dislikes the man.) 

Meadows (pulling out, an envelope and laying it on desk). 
Yes, Captain. They're all in there. 

Richards (shortly). All right. Now what shape was 
the cash in? (Writes as Meadows enumerates.) 

Meadows. It was all in currency. Five one thousand 



THE GOODFELLOW. 63 

dollar bills, ten five hundred dollar bills and the rest in one 
hundred dollar gold certificates. 

Richards. Got the number of any them bills? 

Meadows (sadly shaking head). No, I haven't. Who'd 
ever thought that Dawson would ever rob me. 

Richards (sharply). Cut that! It ain't a cinch that he 
did. 

Meadows (snappishly). Well, I'm positive he did. Only 
him and me knew the combination — understand ? 

Richards. Say, I won't stand for that tone of voice. Put 
the soft pedal on when you talk to me — see? (Meadows 
cozvers in his chair.) How did it happen that you had that 
amount of money in cash on hand, and why wasn't it in 
the vaults? 

Meadows. I had a mortgage to take up the first thing in 
the morning, before the time-locks on vaults would operate 
— that's how it came, sir. 

Richards (thoughtful pause). Any reason for you to 
cook up anything against young Dawson? (Searching look 
at Meadows.) 

Meadows (avoiding Richards^ eyes and shifting uneasily 
in chair). No — ■no, sir. I have nothing against him — that 
is, I had nothing against him. 

Richards. Liked him, eh? 

Meadows (craftily). Oh, yes; very much. 

Richards (looks down at paper on desk, taps it with pen 
in preoccupied manner. Then suddenl\ and sharply). Did 
you ask Miss Madison to marry you this morning? 

Meadows (cringing). I — -I — no, sir. I never did, sir. 

Richards (mildly). Um! I was mistaken. (Suddenly 
jumps to his feet and towers oz^er Meadows, shaking; -fist 
in his face. Savagely.) You lie. Meadows! You lie and 
you know it. You asked that girl to marry you this morn- 
ing, and I believe you cooked up this thing to get Dawson 
in bad with her, thinkin' you'd have a chance with her. It's 
a fat chance you'd have, you old skinflint ! 

Meadows (attempting dignity). Captain Richards, I 
didn't come here to be insulted. (Looks appealingly about 
to Woodstock, w/io is nozv vigorously brushing hat.) 



64 THE GOODFELLOW. 

Richards (sitting down again). Oh,, you didn't, eh? 
Weil, weii. What do you thinlc of that now! (Laughs.) 

Meadows. I have a witness (indicates Woodstock) and 
1 warn you to be careful, sir. 

Richards (looking at Woodstock). And do you call that 
a witness? (Laughs again, then suddenly sobers, picks up 
the hundred dollar bill from desk and holds it up.) If it 
wasn't for this being found on John Dawson, I'd say you 
robbed your own safe. 

Meadows (recoils and then reaches eagerly for bill). It's 
mine ! It's one of the bills ! Give it to me ; give it to me, 
please. (Rubs hands together in miser-like manner and 
gazes gloatingly at bill.) 

Richards (coolly, and putting bill back on desk). No, 
I'll not give it to you. 'Tis a hard matter to identify money. 
This may be yours and again it may not. 

Meadows (doubtingly) . And that one bill was all that 
was found on him? 

Richards. Yes. And don't look so doubtin' at me, either. 

Meadows. Oh, what did he do with the rest of my 
money ? My money ! 

Richards (pressing a hnger on button at side of desk). 
If I told you, you'd know. But what I do know is this. 
You framed this thing up to queer Dawson with the girl. 

Enter Bacon; R. 

Bacon. Want me, Cap? 

Richards. Yes. Show these two gentlemen into the 
small ante room, and th.en open both windows wide. (With 
a contemptuous look at Woodstock and Meadows, whirls 
about to desk and busies himself with pen and paper.) The 
open window is to let pure air in — not for them to make 
a get-away. Understand? (Bacon smiles, opens door and 
motions for the men to go. Meadows struggles to his feet, 
turns to Richards and fairly grovels at his feet.) 

Meadows. You will find my money, won't you, sir. You 
will find it — the money I worked so hard to get — my pre- 
cious money ! Promise me that you will find it and give it 
back to me. (Miser business.) My beautiful money! 



THE GOODFELLOW. 65 

Richards (disgustedly, to Bacon). Take him away, 
Steve. He makes me sick. (Bacon motions for the men to 
leave the room, and they go to door R., followed by Bacon. 
Then Meadows turns to Richards, vehemently.) 

Meadows. I'll show you what'U happen to you, Captain 
Richards. No one ever bucked Richard Meadows and was 
a grand success afterwards. (Exits R., followed by Wood- 
ST0CK_, in snarling anger.) 

Bacon (closing door after them). Gee, Cap, he's some 
vicious ! 

Richards (throzvs down pen and glares at Bacon). 
Young man, when I want a personal opinion from you, I'll 
send you word. Bring Dawson in! (Turns back to desk 
again; writes. Bacon crosses to L., turns and makes a 
spiteful face at Richards and exits L. Richards picks 
up hundred dollar bill, looks at it scowlingly). That's a 
bad piece of evidence against the lad. There are other 
things, too, that'll count against him ; but this is bad — awful 
bad! (Looks again at bill, then places it in drazver. Stares 
thoughtfully into space an instant.) I'll try kindness on 
the laci. I've known that to work, sometimes. 

Enter Bacon, R., followed by John. The latter is neat 
in appearance, but is nervous and glances apprehensively 
about the room. Bacon motions John to chair at desk, 
crosses and exits R.^ John goes slowly to desk and sits in 
chair R., agitated manner. 

Richards (laying down paper and smiling kindly at 
John). Well, lad, how you feelin'? 

John. As well as could be expected, I guess — under the 
circumstances. 

Richards (looks him over critically). Well, you look 
better than you did awhile ago. Had lunch? 

John. Yes, thank you. 

Richards (pulls open a drazver, takes out a cigar box, 
extends it). Have a smoke? 

John (taking a cigar, now a little more at ease. Grate- 
fully). Thank you again, Captain. 



66 THE GOODFELLOW. 

Richards (strikes match, extends light to John, then 
lights his cigar before speaking). 'Tis a pleasing thing- — a 
good cigar. (Puffs contentedly.) 

John (takes tzvo or three pnffs, then makes a wry face). 
Yes — a good cigar is. 

Richards (gazing admiringly at his cigar). And these 
are good. They cost me four cents each by the hundred 
lot. (Holds cigar up.) That, lad, is a genuine General 
Rope. 

John (smiles slightly) . Then they must be good. (Holds 
cigar hetzveen thumb and Unger, surveys it doubtfidly.) 

Richards (blows a cloud of smoke ceilingward) . Your 
father used to love his tobacco, my boy. (John turns head 
sadly.) 'Tis many the smoke and chat I've had with him 
in days gone by; God rest his soul! (John's head sinks on 
his chest.) John, lad, I'm your friend. I've 'shown that 
today, haven't I? (John bows head in assent.) I sent for 
your fresh linen and change of clothes, gave you a bully 
lunch, and now — now you're smokin' one of my choicest 
cigars. 

John (raises head, smiles slightly). Captain, your idea 
of the Third Degree meets with my hearty approval. (Aside, 
referring to cigar.) All but this. 

Richards (gruffly). I'm no true disciple of that Third 
Degree stuff, lad. (Takes tzvo or three thoughtful puffs on 
cigar, earnestly.) John, for the sake of your old dad, I'm 
goin' to be your friend. By g-ad, you need one ! Now^ come 
clean with me. 

John (sullenly). What do you mean. Captain? 

Richards. I want to know several things. (Sharply.) 
Where were you the night the safe was robbed? 

John (hangs head in confusion). I — I don't know. 

Richards (displays disappointment). That's a bad start, 
lad. 

John (srdlenly). I-can't help it; it's the truth. 

Richards (sharply). You're not telling all. You were 
seen to come out of the bank about twelve that night. 

John (quickly and shozuing agitation). Who saw me? 



THE GOODFELLOW. b^ 

KiCHARDS (quietly). I'm askin' questions ; not you. That's 
a bad point against you, too. Especially when you deny 
havin' been there after bankin' hours. (Watches John's 
face keenly to knozv effect.) 

John. Captain, to be perfectly frank with you, I had 
been drinking heavily that night, and can't remember what 
happened. I do know that I was home and in bed in the 
morning as usual. 

Richards (sadly and shaking head). Faith, 'tis a fine 
stew you've got yourself into — all through liquor. 

John (remorsefully). I'm through with it, Captain, no 
matter what happens to me now. I've had my lesson. 

Richards (gruffly). You'll have plenty of time to keep 
from it, the way it looks now. (John starts nervously.) 
Here's another Jbad point against you. What the devil did 
you run away for? 

John (zvith some spirit). And why not? Everything 
seemed against me. I was the only one besides Mr. Mead- 
ows that had the combination ; my brain was in a befuddled 
condition, due to liquor ; then the warrant for my arrest. 
All these things obsessed me with the idea that flight was 
the only thing remaining for me. 

Richards (gruffly). You couldn't have done worse — not 
a thing. (Pause, then suddenly and sharply.) What did 
you do with the money you stole? 

John (recoiling in horror) . The — the money? I — I don't 
know. I didn't have it — not a dollar the next morning. 

Richards (turns quickly and thrusts his face close to 
John's. Roars). Oh, you didn't, eh? You didn't have a 
dollar, eh ? 

John (wonderingly). Why, no — not a dollar. Don't you 
believe me? 

Richards (roars). No, I don't believe you. You're a 
liar ! 

John (springs to his feet, throws cigar on floor, then 
thrusts his face close to Richards'). Captain Richards, 
you can't call me that and get away with it. (Threatens 
him zvith fist.) 

Richards (sneeringly) . Oh, I can't, eh? (Quickly pulls 



68 THE GOODFELLOW. 

open drawer, takes out hill, rises and shakes it in John's 
face.) You're a liar and this proves it! 

John (staggers weakly back and sinks into chair. Sul- 
lenly). That — that doesn't prove anything. 

Richards {throzus hill on desk, disgustedly). Oh, what's 
the use! What's the use! (Sinks zvearily into his chair.) 
You can't come clean ; it ain't in you. You say you didn't 
have a dollar next mornin' after the robbery, and today 
when we frisk you we find that bill on you. 

John (hotly). I tell you I didn't have it next morning. 

Richards (quickly). Then who slipped it to you when 
you made your get-away last night? (Leans eagerly toward 
John.) 

John (cowering). I — J refuse to say. 

Richards (sneeringly). Oh, you're a bright lad, you are! 
I can see you in a nice striped suit right now. 

John (forgetting himself). She gave it to me, but — 
(stops suddenly as he realizes the admission he has made.) 

Richards (triumphantly). Oh, she gave it tO' you, did 
she? So you're going to get some woman mixed up in this 
matter, are you? (Sarcastically.) You're a brave lad! 
(Sharply.) Well, if she gave it to you, where did she get 
it — and what she is it? (Thrusts face close to John's and 
hores him with a gimlet gaze.) 

John (excitedly). You're wrong, and so am L There's 
no one mixed up in this thing but myself. (Wildly.) Damn 
you and your gimlet eyes ! Take 'em off me ! Don't look at 
me that way! Take 'em off, I say! (Covers face with both 
hands and sinks sohhingly hack into chair.) 

Richards (smiles as if nozv sure of his victory). V 
thought so, all along, but I tried to jolly myself along with 
the belief that you were by some chance innocent. (Presses 
button for Bacon.) I'll give you one more chance before 
we take you downstairs again, to tell me if there's a she 
mixed up in this. 

John (springs to feet, agitatedly) . I tell you, Captain, 
I am the one. I confess ! I stole Meadows' money. I was 
deeply in debt — that's why. Now I am willing to suffer the 
penalty. 



THE GOODFELLOW. 69 

Enter Bacon, R. 

Richards {to Bacon). Send Dawson down stairs. I've 
pumped him dry. {Turns to desk. Bacon takes Joh'N hy 
arm and they cross to L. At door John turns as if to speak 
to Richards, changes his mind and permits Bacon to lead 
him through door, his head sadly bozved on his chest. 
Richards slowly picks up his cigar, thoughtfully lights 
it, takes a couple of puffs, then his gaze zuanders about top 
of desk and then to floor, suddenly discovers John's cigar 
on floor, rises and picks it up). My, my! the lad has so 
much money now that he throws away good cigars half 
smoked. {Carefully lays it on one corner of desk, again 
seats himself and gazes sorrozufully at John's cigar.) My, 
my! 'tis a sinful waste of money. {Frowns at end of his 
ozun cigar.) I'm worse tangled up than I was before. I've 
got to find out who "she" is. 

Enter Bacon, L. 

Bacon {eagerly). The guy tells me he confessed to you. 

Richards {gruffly). Bring in the Peck woman and old 
Madison. 

Bacon {hesitates). I don't understand, Cap. 

Richards. Of course you don't. If you knew any thin' 
you wouldn't be a detective. Bring 'em in ! 

Bacon {gruffly, salutes). All right, Cap. {Exits R.) 

Richards {grozvlingly) . I wonder where Stebbins is, 
and just what he knows? {Thoughtful pause, sighs, picks 
up pen and writes.) 

Enter Bacon, Martha and Henry, R. Bacon escorts 
them to chairs R. and L. of desk, then grins maliciously at 
them and exits R. Richards busies himself with pen, pay- 
ing no attention to them. Twenty seconds elapse, during 
zvhich Martha is struggling to suppress her rising anger 
and Henry is nervously fingering his hat and glacing fear- 
fully about the room. 

Martha {vehemently, to Richards). I do wish, you'd 
say something. You're getting on my nerves ! 

Richards {slowly lays dpzun pen and as slowly turns to 
her). What is your name, ma'am? 



70 THE GOODFELLOVV. 

Martha (snappishly). You know what my name is or I 
wouldn't be here. Now I want to know why I have been 
arrested? 

Henry (nervously). Yes, sir; we'd Hke to know. 

Martha (scornfully, glaring angrily at Henry). There's 
no "we" in this at all. I never did have any use for you, 
and I refuse to be even arrested with you. 

Richards (glaring angrily at each of them in turn and 
banging top of desk with £st). Shut up, both of you!_ Til 
do the talkin' in this thing. (She glares angrily at him.) 
You're not "pinched," either one of you— and if you behave 
you won't be. (Brusquely, to Martha.) You board at the 
Madison's, don't you? 

Martha (snappishly). You know I do. 

Henry (eagerly). Yes, sir, she does. I made the busi- 
ness arrangements myself. (Martha glares at him.) 

Richards (to Henry). Say, I'll choke you in a minute! 
(To Martha.) Do you know one Richard Meadows? 

Martha (stiffly). By reputation only. I don't care to 
know any one as crooked as he. 

Richards (sharply). I'm not askin' your opinion. I 

want — ■ 

Martha (interrupting). I don't care what you want. 
Richard Meadows is so crooked that he uses a corkscrew 
for a fork. (Henry chuckles but is instantly silenced by a 
scowl from Richards.) 

Richards (to Martha). You know the accused m this 
case, John Dawson? 

Henry. He zuas engaged to my daughter. " . 

Martha (sharply). He is, you mean, not was. (To 
Richards.) Mr. John Dawson is a very fine young man, 
and I can say that I am proud to know him. He has one 
failing. He will drink. 

Henry. Yes, and he's shiftless, too. 

Richards (ignoring Henry — to Martha). It looks very 
much like he was the party who stole Meadows' coin. 

Martha (snappishly). Don't believe it 

Henry. Well, he and Meadows were the only ones that 
knew the combination; the safe wasn't blown open, and 



THE GOODFELLOW. 71 

folks don't generally rob themselves. (Martha glares an- 
grily at this.) 

Richards (to Henry). Tell me what you know about 
Dawson— and do it quick and brief. 

Henry (eagerly). I've had my eye on him for a long 
time, and I told Jane not to have anything more to do with 
him, but she was that stubborn she went ahead and did just 
the same. He drank and gambled, and he got into debt 
through them things. And now he's a robber. (Martha 
again glares at this.) 

Richards (sharply). How do you know he is? 

Henry (hesitatingly). I know it. I don't know how I 
know it, but I know it. I'm just a natural born detective, 
that's why. 

Richards (abruptly to Martha). Miss Peck, you made 
some excited remark about a big bunch of money this 
mornin'. (She gives a quick start.) 

Henry (eagerly). I can tell you all about that, Captain. 

Richards (scozvling at him, then to Martha), Just 
what did you mean by that remark ? Was it your money you 
was talkin' about, or — 

Martha (interrupts) . Oh, there's nothing to conceal. I 
was talking about money that was given to me to distrib- 
ute to charity. (Henry eagerly nods head.) 

Richards (disappointedly). Oh, I supposed it was a big 
sum of money, from what I heard. 

PIenry (eagerly). It was, Captain; it was. 

Richards (sharply, to her). How much? 
• Martha (impressively). Fifteen thousand dollars! 
(Again Henry nods head.) 

Richards (interested). That is quite a sum, ma'am. 
(Sharply.) Who gave it to you? 

Martha. Mr. Hudson, and a mighty fine man, sir, he is. 

Richards (shozvs surprise). Old Man Hudson, eh? 
(Brusque.) Where's the money? 

Martha (enjoying his increasing excitement). He didn't 
give it to me in money ; 'twas in checks. 

Henry (eagerly). Yes, sir; four checks. I seen 'em 
myself. 



72 THE GOODFELLOW. 

Richards (again shozving disappointment) . Um! Have 
you them now ? 

Martha {snappishly). No, I haven't. I gave them to 
the people who were entitled to them. See here, Captain 
Richards, I know what you're hinting at, but you're barking 
up the wrong tree. You're trying to connect Mr. Hudson 
with this robbery, but you can't do it. Mr. Hudson is a 
mighty fine gentleman ! 

Henry {to her). First time I ever heard you say so. I 
ain't so sure he is myself. He gives me the ''creeps," that's 
my estimate of him. 

Richards {gruffly). I got a lot of information from you 
both, {Presses button.) But, at that, you know as much 
about this case as everybody else seems to. Everybody I 
question opens up a new line of thought for me. 

Enter Bacon, R. 

Richards. Steve, take these folks away. {To Martha 
aizd Henry.) You'll oblige me by stickin' around a while. 
I may want you later. (Martha and Henry rise. Bacon 
motions for them to accompany him.) 

Henry {to Richards, eagerly). Anything I can do. 

Captain, call on me. As I said before, I'm a natural born 

detective. I knew right away that Dawson stole that money. 

(Richards scowls at him and motions for Bacon to take 

him away.) 

Martha {at door R.). Captain, I'd like to give you a 
piece of my mind, but I won't_ because I'm too much of a 
lady, but you can draw your own conclusions from that re- 
mark, as to my general estimate of you. {E.rits disdainfully, 
R., followed by Henry. Bacon closes door after them, 
then turns to Richards.)' 

Bacon {smilingly). What now, Cap? 

Richards {gruffly). What are you laughing at? (Bacon 
indicates door R. with a jerk of his thumb.) Well, I'm too 
much of a gentleman to speak what I think of that woman. 
{Abruptly.) Seen anything of Stebbins yet? 

Bacon {growls). No! 

Richards. Wait! {Turns to phone — into it.) Hello, 



THE GOODFELLOW. 1Z 

Edgewood Station! (Pause.) Edgewood? Captain Rich- 
ards speakin'. What? Yes, I know you said you'd call me 
as soon as you heard anythin'. Certainly, I still want him 
— and want him bad. Now get busy ! (Hangs tip receiver, 
to Bacon.) Steve, I got a hunch that when we find Steb- 
bins, we get this tangle straightened out. 

Bacon. He never turned the trick, Cap. 

Richards. No? Well, you're a wise gink! If you know 
who did it, why don't you bring him in ? 

Bacon (sourly). He is in now! 

Richards (sarcastically) . Oh, he is, eh? Well, what do 
you suppose I'm askin' all these people questions for, just 
to hear my gentle voice? 

Bacon (earnestly). Cap, it ain't for me to butt in on 
your game, or draw cards when I ain't wanted, but if I 
was dealin' cards, I'd know how many Dawson was goin' 
to take before he told me. 

Richards (thoughtfully). It does look like him, for a 
fact. But I want to make sure. (Taps pen on desk thought- 
fully.) What do you know about this man Hudson? 

Bacon (smiles). Say, Cap, you ain't had me on the car- 
pet yet. Maybe I got the coin! 

Richards (sarcastically). Not a chance in the world. 
That job was done by somebody with brains. (Bacon 
winces.) Steve, I been kind o' stallin' along to give Steb- 
bins time to show, but I'm tired o' waitin' for him. Nov/ 
I'm goin' after 'em rough shod. Show Miss Madison in ! 

Bacon (at door, hesitatingly). Say, Cap, I don't think 
she — - 

Richards (roughly). You're not supposed to think. Bring 
her in! (Whirls about to desk.) 

Bacon makes a despairing gesture and exits R., imme- 
diately re-enters, followed by Jane and Dora. Bacon 
shozus them to seats alongside of desk and exits R. Jane 
shozvs the nervous strain she has been under, but Dora is 
cheerful and saucily defiant. 

Richards (looks" at Jane, then at Dora. To Jane, 



74 THE GOODFELLOW. 

gruffly, indicating Dora.) I told you to come in, not a 
crowd ! 

Jane {tremulously) , I — I — didn't think it would matter, 
sir. 

Dora {to Richards, sweetly). Besides, I'm not a ''crowd." 
I'm just a little girl, sir. {Favors him with a bewitching 
smile. ) 

. Richards {visibly affected by her smile and pretty face). 
Oh, I guess it's all right; you can stick. 

Dora {gracious smile). Oh, thank you, sir. Stubbie's 
often told me that you were just the grandest man he ever 
met. 

Richards {starts). Stubbie? Stubbie Stebbins? {She 
nods.) Say, what do you know about him? 

Dora. Oh, everything — that is {shyly) he's a very par- 
ticular friend of mine. 

Richards. Oh, he is, eh? Maybe then you can tell me 
where I can lay my two hands on him. (Jane starts.) 

Dora {showing dismay). Why, I — I — haven't seen him 
since — 

Richards {growlingly) . And nobody else. {Abruptly to 
Jane.) Your man's confessed! {Keenly zvatches her to 
note effect of his words.) 

Jane {his words slowly dawning on her). My— my John 
confessed? 

Richards {gruffly). Yes, he's the thief! (Jane shows 
strong agitation.) 

Dora {quickly, to Jane). Don't you believe him, dearie. 
(Richards scowls at Dora.) 

Jane {getting slowly to her feet and clutching desk for 
support) . I don't ! I don't believe it ! It's a trick ! I've heard 
of such things before — your brutal police methods — I've 
heard of them. {Sways unsteadily.) ^ 

Richards {gruffly, to Jane). Sit down! {To Dora, 
scowling.) Shut up ! 

Dora (ruffled). You're a big brute ! (Richards ^cow/^.) 

Richards {to Jane). It's no trick. He has as much as 
confessed. I got a strong case against him, and it's goiri' 
to be stronger! (Impressively.) Miss Madison! (She 



THE GOODFELLOW. 75 

raises her head quickly and meets his keen gaze.) Miss 
Madison, where did you ^ get that hundred dollar bill you 
gave the lad? (Dora assumes tense attitude.) 

Jane (wonderingly) . How did you know — I mean, it 
was mine to give him. 

Richards (leaning back zvith a sigh of satisfaction. 
Aside). B'gorry, 'twas a shrewd guess! 

Dora {springs to her feet and confronts him angrily). 
See here, don't you dare intimate that Jane stole that bill ! 

Richards {to Dora). Sit down, you little spitfire! Sit 
down before I arrest you for — for resisting an officer. 
{Chuckles. Dora sits, hut still ruffled. To Jane.) Of 
course I don't mean to say that you hadn't a right to give 
John the money, but a hundred dollar bill, especially at 
this time — 

Jane {quickly). Oh, there need be no mystery about the 
matter, sir. Mr. Hudson gave me the bill. (Dora nods.) 

Richards {starts in surprise). Hudson, eh? {Sharply.) 
Are you sure about that? 

Ja^e {wonderingly) . Why, of course-. Captain. He gave 
me the bill just a short time before I gave it to John, as an 
advance on his board. Why do you look at me so ? 

Richards {abruptly.) Would you know the bill if you 
saw it again ? 

Jane {doubtfully). Perhaps — I'm not sure, sir. 

Dora. My, but isn't this interesting! Just like stories 
I've read. 

Richards {suddenly flashing bill in Janets face). This 
is the bill, isn't it? 

Jane {taken by surprise, then looks at the bill). It looks 
like the one. 

Richards. To the best of your knowledge and belief, 
this is the one? • - . 

Jane {slowly nods head). I should say it was, sir. 
{Smiles sadly.) But I'm not familiar enough with bills of 
that denomination to take oath that it is the identical bill 
that was given me by Mr. Hudson. 

Richards. That's good enough for me. {Turning ab- 
ruptly to Dora.) Now, young lady, did you have anything 



76 THE GOODFELLOW. 

to do with the mysterious disappearance of your sweet- 
heart 

Dora (startled), I— I didn't; no, sir he just run away 
and left me, sir. 

Richards (sharply). Didn't he say anythin' when he 

went ? 

Dora (eagerly). Oh, yes, sir. 

Richards (quickly). Well, well; come on; what did he 

say ? • J 1 

Dora (trying hard to think). He said — he said, oh, yes. 

he said: 'I've got it! I've got it!" 

Richards (pusded) . "I've got it ! I've got it !" (Pause.) 
But he didn't have it, Miss. 

Dora (puzzled in turn). Didn't have what, sir? 

Richards. Didn't have his hat. 

Jane (to Richards). He said something to Dora about 
having met Mr. Hudson somewhere before, a long time 

ago, and — . 

Dora (eagerly interrupting) . Yes, that was it. That was 
vhat got Stubbie so excited. He remembered all of a sud- 
den where he'd seen Mr. Hudson before. You know, he 
has a peculiar habit of stroking his eyebrow. 

Richards. Who — Stubbie? 

Dora. No, Mr. Hudson. Stubbie was talking to me, then 
he stopped and yelled, "I've gotjt!" 

Richards (impatiently). Are you sure that was all he 

said? , 

Dora (wrinkling brows thoughtfully, then taps forehead 

zvith -finger tip). No, no; he said something else. Let me 

think. (Thoughtful pose.) 

Richards (impatiently). Come, come; out with it. inis 

is mighty important 1 (Eager attitude.) 

Bora (suddenly) . I have it. He said— he said— 
Richards. Yes, yes; what was it? . 

Dora (embarrassed). I wouldn't like to repeat it, sir. 
Richards (sternly). I am Captain of police, with the 

power of the mighty law on my side. In the name of the 

law which I represent, I command you to tell me, word for 

word, just what he said. 




THE GOODFELLOW. 11 

Dora (resignedly). Well, if I must, I must, I suppose. 
He said, "Vm in a hurry; to hell with the hat!'' (Jane 
smiles.) 

Richards {dazed with the ridiculousness of her reply, 
then turns away to hide his mirth- twitching face. To Dora, 
after an instant to recover his self-possession). Miss, I 
apologize for forcing such pretty lips to utter such — such 
a wicked word. {Presses button for Bacon.) 

Dora {sweetly). It was nothing, sir — {embarrassed) — 
that is, it wouldn't be for anyone accustomed to it. 

Enter Bacon, R. 

Richards {sharply, to Bacon). Bring Hudson in! {The 
girls rise. Bacon exits R.) 

Jane. Oh, sir, I hope you don't think that Mr. Hudson 
is involved in this terrible affair? 

Dora. Impossible ! 

Richards {snappishly). It's not impossible! Sit down, 
both of you. {They sit.) This hundred dollar bill has been 
juggled about long enough. I want to know who belongs 
to it, and I'm goin' to find out. 

Enter Bacon, R., followed by Hudson. He carries his 
cane and glances sharply about the room and starts slightly 
as he discovers the two girls. Bacon closes door and stands 
with back against it. 

Hudson {to Richards, mildly). You wish, to see me, 
sir? {One hand goes slowly to an eyebrow.) 

Richards {brusquely). I do. {Motions for Hudson to 
draw nearer. You'll oblige me, Mr. Hudson, by answerin' 
my questions — with as little evasion as possible. (Hudson 
nods.) Your first name is — 

Hudson. Stanley, sir. 

Richards. Haven't been in this town long, have you? 

Hudson. About two weeks. 

Richards {sharply). Where'd you come from? 

Hudson {hesitatingly). From — the East, sir. 

Richards {growlingly). What city? {Girls show in- 
tense interest all through the scene.) 

Hudson. I came from Philadelphia, Captain. 



7S THE GOODFELLOW. y 

RiCH'ARDS. What line of business you in? 

Hudson {mildly). I am engaged in no particular busi- 
ness just at present. 

Richards. Retired ? 

Hudson. Yes, sir; for some time, 

Richards. You give away large sums to charity, I un- 
derstand ? 

Hudson {quietly). Yes, I do. Is that a crime? 

Richards {sharply). It's suspicious — sometimes. 

Hudson {mildly). Dear, dear! {Strokes an eyebrow.) 

Richards {quick to note the action — gives a slight start). 
You know somethin' about this robbery affair — you've heard 
about it, I presume? (Hudson nods.) Read it in the pa- 
pers? (Hudson again nods.) Suppose you also know the 
accused, John Dawson? 

Hudson. Yes, Captain. Met him several times. 

Richards {suddenly snatches the hill from^ under a piece 
of paper and thrusts it before Hudson's face. Roars). 
Where did you get this? {Girls rise excitedly to feet.) 

Hudson {calmly surveys bill). Ah, a one hundred dollar 
bill ! 

Richards {shouts). I'm askin' you where you got it? I 
know what it is. 

Hudson {coolly). Don't get excited, Captain. If that is 
the same bill that I gave to Miss Madison last evening, it 
must be the same one I got from Meadows' bank. {Both 
girls show marked agitation.) 

Richards {astounded). You- — you admit that you got 
this bill from Meadows' bank? 

Hudson {calmly). Certainly. What disturbs you so, 
Captain ? 

Richards {gaspingly). Well — of all — the — damn — nerve! 
{Shouts.) Have you the audacity to stand there and — 
{gasps for breath). 

Hudson {mildly). My dear Captain, you are agitated. 
Calm yourself. Is a hundred dollar bill such a rarity to you 
that close contact with one drives you insane? 

Richards {bangs desk with hst, then springs to his feet. 
Roars). I'll show you whether I'm crazy or not. I'll — 



THE GOODFELLOW. 79 

Hudson (mildly). Dear, dear! My dear Captain, I entreat 
you, be calm. You are evidently laboring under slight mis- 
take. Permit me to rectify it. 

Richards (slowly seats himself. Grimly). Go ahead! 
(Dryly.) I've listened before — to rectifiers. 

Hudson. Very good, sir. We'll admit for argument's sake 
that the bill on your desk is the identical one I gave to Miss 
Madison, although, it is a difficult matter to identify it as 
such unless it has either been marked in some manner or 
unless the number has been previously noted. (Sharply.) 
Do you happen to know the number of that bill, Captain? 

Richards (taken back). No — I don't. 

Hudson (quickly). Very good again. Does the bill bear 
any distinguishing mark which would serve to identify it? 

Richards (looking at bill, then at him, doubtfully) . Not 
— not that I know of. 

Hudson (smiles). All right. Captain, you'd have a mighty 
hard proposition on your hands in proving that it was the 
same bill that passed through my hands, if I wanted to be 
obstinate. But I'm only too willing to be of service to you. 
These ladies here (indicating Jane and Dora) will testify 
that they heard Mr. Meadows say this morning that in 
exchange for a draft which I presented to him he handed 
me $500 — six fifty dollar bills and two one hundred dollar 
bills. (To Jane awd Dora.) Am I correct, ladies? 

Dora (to Richards, eagerly). That is right. Captain. 

Jane (just as eagerly). Absolutely, sir! (Hudson smiles 
his thanks.) 

Richards (dumbfounded at the turn things have taken). 
Well, I'll be — (stops suddenly, stares blankly at Hudson 
and the girls and then at the bill.) 

Hudson (smiles, then raises a hand to an eyebrow). Very 
simple. Captain, isn't it? 

Richards (again noting with a start his action). Maybe 
it is and maybe it isn't. I'm not licked yet. (Sharply to 
Hudson.) I don't get this eyebrow thing of yours. 

Hudson (starts) . I don't believe I quite gather what you 
mean, Captain. 



80 THE GOODFELLOW. 

Richards (explosively). You get me all right! This is 
what I mean. (Strokes eyebrow in imitation of Hudson.) 

Hudson (smiles easily and then strokes his eyebrow). 
Dear, dear ! Excited again, and over such a trifling matter. 
Is it considered a crime in your category for one to caress 
an eyebrow? See, I wipe my lips with my handkerchief, so. 
(Does so.) , What dire punishment now befalls me for so 
heinous a crime as that, Captain? (Smiles sarcastically.) 

Richards (growlingly) . You're only "kiddin' " yourself , 
not me. I'm goin' to hold you until a certain party shows, 
then maybe I'll have the last laugh. (To Bacon^ zvho all 
through foregoing scene has stood at door R. displaying 
intense interest.) Steve, bring in all interested parties in 
this case. (Bacon salutes and exits R.) 

Hudson (to Richards, menacingly) . I wouldn't do any- 
thing to be sorry for, if I were you, Captain. (Jane and 
DoRA_, L. C, in excited pantomime conversation.) 

Richards (grimly). Don't you worry. I won't be sorry. 

Hudson (slightly ill at ease). I have heard of Russian 
police methods, but this is the tlnited States of America. 

Richards (Jry/y). I know my geography, Mr. Hudson. 

Hudson. But you can't hold me. 

Richards. I know I can't — but I will. (Hudson winces.) 

Enter Bacon, R., followed ?7y. Martha, Henry, Mead- 
ows and Woodstock. They group about the door tenta- 
tively. Meadows glares angrily at Hudson, who stands R. 
of desk. 

Richards (to Meadows). Mr. Meadows, this man here 
(indicates Hudson) claims that you cashed a draft for him 
yesterday. Right ? 

Meadows (grudgingly) . Yes, I did. 

Richards. You gave him — (pauses, considts paper on 
desk ) . 

Meadows. Six fifty dollar bills and two one hundred dol- 
lar bills. I always remember, sir ; I always remember. 
(Miser business. Richards picks up pen and thoughtfidly 
taps it on desk. Jane flashes a quick signal to Bacon, who 
goes swiftly to her at L. C.) 



THE GOODFELLOW. 81 

Jane {to Bacon suh rosa). You promised to be my friend. 
John — where is he? 

Bacon {aside to her). I'll bring him in if I lose my job. 
{Crosses swiftly to L. and exits.) 

Richards {suddenly throwing down pen, whirls about to 
phone; into it). Hello! Central double six two! {Pause.) 
Hello ! ''Mornin' Growl ?" Captain Richards speakin'. Steb- 
bins there? No? {Disappointedly.) O, ain't seen him, eh? 
No, neither have I. Say, first sight you get of him shoot 
him over here, will you ? Sure — first thing. {Bangs receiver 
on hook, then turns to Hudson with an undecided air.) 
Mr. Hudson, you got me plumb up a tree. {Scowls.) 

Enter Bacon and John^ L. Jane and Dora greet him 
silently. Bacon crosses to door R. 

Hudson {smiles). Which means that I am at liberty to 
go ? Thanks, Captain. I bear no ill will for the unkind things 
you've thrown my way, and I'm sorry that you are "plumb 
up a tree." {Turns to depart, with Richards undecided 
whether to permit him to go or to detain him.) 

Enter Stubbie, R. He hursts excitedly and hatless into 
the room, stops C, looking quickly all about and breathing 
heavily. All start with surprise. 

Dora {springs forward delightedly). Oh, Stubbie! 

Stubbie {thrusts her gently to one side). Just a moment, 
little girl. {To Bacon, indicating Hudson, who is edging 
toward door R.) Stop him, Steve! (Bacon blocks door- 
way.) 

Richards {rising, to Stubbie, explosively). Say, what 
is this — 

Stubbie {interrupting sharply). I know what I'm doing, 
Cap. {Hurriedly.) I've been chasing my head off for five 
hours — that's why I know. That man — {pointing at Hud- 
son) is Blinkie Bowers, known in police circles as the ''phi- 
lanthropist crook!" {All exclaim, and display agitation. 
Hudson, after a quick start of guilt, gazes quickly about, 
as if seeking an opening for escape.) 

Richards {with a swift, keen glance at Hudson. To 



82 THE GOODFELLOW. 

Stubbie). You're wrong, kid. Blinkie Bowers is a young 
man. 

Stubbie (makes a quick dash to Hudson and jerks off 
his wig and beard). There you are, Captin. There's your 
young man. (Hudson now appears as a prepossessing young 
man of about thirty. Again all exclaim and show agitation, 
then Meadows, with a wild scream, fastens his gaze upon 
Hudson in transfixed horror.) 

Meadows {half screaming). It's he! My nephew! The 
man I hate and fear above everything in this terrible world ! 
{Grovels in terror on floor C.) 

Hudson {calmly and looking coldly at Meadows). Yes, 
for once in your rotten, miserable existence, you are right. 
I am Stanley Widdf ord, your nephew — God pity me ! 
{Raises a hand to an eyebrow.) 

Stubbie {to Richards, excitedly). There, Captain, do you 
see that? That's what first put me wise. (Looks down at 
Meadows.) But this is a new phase of the thing. I didn't 
know they were related. (Hurriedly.) About three years 
ago I was a police reporter on the Boston Press-Dispatch. 
One day this man was before a magistrate, charged with 
burglary. They didn't have the goods on him and they 
had to let him go. But the man's cool assurance and the 
peculiar way he had of stroking his eyebrows were deeply 
impressed upon me. This morning it all came back to me, 
and I've been burning the wires to cinch my case against 
him. That's about all, Cap. (Dora smiles proudly at him. 
Jane presses John^s arm and smiles up in his fdce.) 

Meadows (groveling on floor, screams) . It's not all ! 
He's a robber. A villain! Make him give me back my 
money — my beautiful money! (Hudson turns from him 
in loathing.) 

Richards (to Hudson, triumphantly) . Well, Mr. Blinkie 
Bowers, anythin' to say? 

Hudson (calmly and taking C). Yes, Captain — just a 
few words. I am Blinkie Bowers. Now what are you going 
to do about it? 

Richards (nonplussed). What am I — say, what about 
this last job here? 



THE GOODFELLOW. 83 

Hudson (calmly). There was no money stolen from m}/ 
uncle's safe. (All show surprise.) 

Meadows (screams). You lie! You lie! You stole my 
money ! 

Hudson (ignoring Meadows. To Richards). Captain, 
my friend Stebbins has spoken nothing- but th.e truth. I am 
known as Blinkie Bowers, the philanthropist crook. I steal 
from the "poor rich" and give it to the "rich poor." By 
"poor rich" I refer to such scum of the earth as that. 
(Indicates Meadows.) The "rich poor" I never have 
trouble in locating through the medium of numerous Mar- 
tha Pecks. (Smiles at her.) I never stole for personal profit 
• — merely for the thrill of it and the pleasure of philan- 
thropy. That's all, Captain, except to add that my uncle is 
mistaken. (Impressively.) He will tell you that his moiiey 
was mislaid — and not stolen. (Puts right hand in inside 
pocket.) 

Meadows. I tell you, he lies ! He stole my money ! (Miser 
business.) 

Hudson (drawing out his hand, in which is a packet of 
old letters. He holds it so that only Meadows and the audi- 
ence can see). My dear uncle, you are mistaken. You lost 
no money! Think now! (Taps package significantly.) 

Meadows (eyes on package in terror, brokenly). No — 
I — was mistaken ! I remember now. There was no money in 
the safe! No money — no money! (Slyly leers at the others, 
then mumbles.) No money — no beautiful money! (Walks 
tremblingly to Woodstock.) 

Richards (bangs a Ust on deck and glares angrily at 
Meadows). Then what in the name of Patrick Henry did 
you start someth.in' you couldn't finish? (Turns to the oth- 
ers appealingly.) Say, can you beat it? Can — you — beat — it ! 
(Drops disgustedly into his chair.) 

Meadows (brokenly mumbles). There was no money — 
there was no money. (Grasps Woodstock's arm for support 
and totters to door R., mumbling as he exits.) No money — 
no money! (Exit, supported by Woodstock.) 

Stubbie (sub rosa to Hudson). What's the thing you 



84 THE GOODFELLOW. 

pulled on the old uncle to ever make him forget twenty 
thousand dollars? 

Hudson (sub rosa to Stubbie^ shozving, letters hurriedly). 
These ! Letters written years ago by the one human being 
that I hold sacred above all — and everything ! He held them 
to blackmail her. He knows I could ruin him if I wished, 
that's why he ''welched." (Stubbie smiles, puts out his 
hand and they clasp hands fervently.) 

Jane {to John). I knew you were innocent, John. Your 
only crime was being a "goodfellow." 

John {to Jane). Yes, dear, and I've had my lesson. 
(Kisses her.) You've shown me that there is another mean- 
ing to the term of ''goodfellow." 

Dora {to Stubbie, pulling him azvay from Hudson). 
Stubbie Stebbins, I'm proud of you, {Shakes his hand vig- 
orously.) 

Hudson {to Richards). Captain, I may go? 

Richards {doubtfully). I'm not so sure that you can — 

Stubbie {stepping forward, to Richards). I am. Cap. 
Read this. {Extends a telegram.) 

Richards {quick glance at it). That appears to be a 
clean slate for him all right. {To Hudson.) You can go, 
but — {shakes head significantly, then waves him away. 
Hudson slowly bozvs head, furns and goes to door R., 
turns and smiles sadly at all. His right hand goes to h^ 
right eyebrow in a grave salute and farezvell and he exits 
R. Then comes the tap-tap of his stick on the stone zvalk. 
Tense pause, all listening to the sound of his cane. Rich- 
ards with a sigh, referring to Hudson). There goes the 
big chance to get me a reputation. 

Stubbie {cheerfully). You've nothing on me. Cap. There 
goes the greatest "scoop" I've run across in years — and / 
could have had it. 

Martha {at door R.). He's the grandest man I ever 
met. {Sighs heavily and exits.) 

Henry {at door R.). Blinkie Bowers! Gosh, no wonder 
he gave me the "creeps!" {Exits.) 

Bacon {at door R.). Cap, I'm goin' out and find me a 
job drivin' truck. If I find two jobs I'll save you one. 



THE GOODFELLOW. 85 

(Richards winces and pretends to busy himself zvith pen. 
Bacon exits. John^ Jane^ Dora and Stubbie come to 
desk.) 

John {to Richards). Captain, I suppose I'll have to be 
your guest a while longer, but — 

Jane {pleadingly) . Can't he go with me. Captain? I'll 
see that he appears when wanted. (Dora smiles at 
Richards.) 

Richards. He can go, but he'll have to be in court at ten 
tomorrow for a few minutes. (Jane^ Dora and John 
shake his hand and then turn to depart, followed by Stub- 
bie. The first three exeunt and Stubbie is just about to 
exit, when — Richards calling). Oh, Stebbins. (Stub- 
bie comes back to desk.) Stebbins, how did Blinkie know 
the combination? 

Stubbie. He didn't. I forgot to mention that Bowers 
can open any safe ever made by manipulating the combina- 
tion. But of course he didn't open the Meadows safe. 
{Winks solemnly.) 

Richards {dryly). No — of course not. Stebbins, the law 
is a bad thing to monkey with, but sometimes you can wink 
at it and get away with it. Now here's where I wink 
at the law ! {Solemnly close right eye zvith an exaggerated 
wink. Stubbie grasps his hand, both smile broadly, to — ) 

Curtain. 



Catchy Son^s in A Rustic Romeo 



I WANT A BIG-TOWN GIRL 

There is always some excite- 
ment 
To be found in New York 
town ; 
I want to learn to be a sport 

And turn things upside down. 
I want to win a pile of tin 

And hear the popping cork; 
I'll be a good chap, not a coun- 
try yap. 
When I strike old New York. 

PRETTY GIRLS 

Listen, listen, a secret I'll un- 
fold. 

Listen, listen, you're worth your 
weight in gold. 

It's love that turns the world 
around, 

Bright eyes and dainty curls. 

There's nothing on the earth 
that can 

Compare with pretty girls. 

One night I took a stroll, 'twas 
in September. 
A starlit night, no moon in 
sight, 
I saw a figure neat, if I remem- 
ber, 
Stroll in the park, 'twas rather 
dark. 
She sat alone upon a bench ap- 
pearing weary. 
As I went by, she heaved a 
sigh, 
I kissed her as I said, "Good 
evening, dearie!" 
I took a look. A negro cook! 

Listen, listen, she started after 

me, 
Bawling, bawling, "I'm your 

affinity;" 



It's love that turns the world 

around. 
Bright eyes and dainty curls. 
But I must draw the color line 
When kissing pretty girls. 

I'M FALLING IN LOVE AGAIN 

A sweet dainty widoW, with 
sweet dainty ways, 
I'm on the lookout for a man; 
And though I had two and each 
one did skidoo 
I'm doing the best that I can 
To find me a third. I want a 
sweet boy 
To shield me from worry and 
strife. 
And surely in all this big bunch 
out in front 
There's someone who wants a 
nice wife. 

Chorus. 
I'm head over heels in the ocean 
of love, 
Now one of you horrible men 
Please be a life saver and throw 
me a line, 
I'm faling in love again. 

JOHN JABEZ' WEDDING 

Then we'll have a country din- 
ner. 
Oyster pie and cold pigs' feet. 
For I know John Jabez' wed- 
ding 
Will be mighty hard to beat. 
Uncle Ted'll play the fiddle, 

Marthy Patt she will pi-ann, 
"Swing yer pardners to the 
middle," 
Old maid Jen has caught a 
man. 



"We gave 'A Rustic Romeo' and it was a great success. It 
is the best play for amateurs I have ever seen." — Sue H. Taylor, 
East Radford, Va. 

"I played a part in 'A Rustic Romeo' when it was given here 
last spring and it was certainly a wonderful play." — Harold E. 
Gilland, Clearfield, Pa. 

" 'A Rustic Romeo' was well received and praised very highly 
by the audience." — W. L. Roper, Anna, Texas. 

"A splendid musical drama. A record-breaking crowd wit- 
nessed 'A Rustic Romeo.' The play was a good one and the 
applause well merited." — Journal, Hannibal, Mo. 

T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers 

154 W. Randolph Street, CHICAGO 



A Rustic Romeo 

By WALTER BEN HARE. 

Price, 25 Cents 

A musical comedy in 2 acts, 10 males, 12 females. Only 5 
m. and 4 f. have lines. The rest are in the chorus. It can be 
played by 5 m., 4 f., eliminating the chorus. It will prove equally 
successful when produced without music. Time, 214 hours. Scenes: 
1 exterior, 1 interior. Characters: John Jabe Doolittle, the would- 
be heart smasher of Chowderville. Hink Spinny, who peddles 
tinware, woodenware and hardware everywhere. Sid Roberts, who 
longs for the "Great White Way." Azariah* Figg, , storekeeper. 
Grandpaw Blue, the oldest inhabitant. Evalina Tupper, the vil- 
lage belle. Miss Dee, a lovelorn critter. Mrs. Spriggs, looking 
for the third. Honeysuckle Spriggs, her little sunbeam. The 
Chowderville fire brigade and its charming society leaders, con- 
stitute the chorus. Contains ten exceptionally clever songs, hu- 
morous and sentimental. "I Want a Big-Town Girl" is set to 
original music. The remainder are sung to familiar college airs. 
"Pretty Girls," "I'm Falling in Love Again," "Moonlight Sere- 
nade," "John Jabe's Wedding," "Over the Banister." "The Chow- 
der Fire Brigade," "Gay Manhattan," "Love's Waltz" and "On 
the Fourth of July." A most interesting plot wound about the 
events of a small town, which keeps one's interest keen until 
Figg finally locates his $70.00 and John Jabe gets a wife. This 
play is a decided novelty. Directions are given with the songs, 
explaining in detail how the chorus may be drilled to march, form 
figures, pictures, etc., which are very effective, yet in the range 
of amateurs. A clever stage director should make this show equal 
most metropolitan successes. Especially recommended for col- 
lege productions. Professional stage rights reserved and a royalty 
of five dollars required for amateur performance. 

SYNOPSIS. 

Act I. — Chowderville on a busy day. Honeysuckle and St 
Cecelia astonish the rubes. The boy whose father was bad "Do 
I look like a tall-grass sister?" Miss Dee, a lone, lorn critter, tells 
of the awfulness of the world. The village belle and the Rustic 
Romeo. "Girls, girls, girls!' A matrimonial advertisement from 
a clinging little blonde -named Golden-haired Flossie. Hink Spin- 
ney tries to propose to Evalina. "If I only had $70!" Mrs Spriggs 
astonishes the natives. "I'll make you think a Kansas tornado has 
struck your town." A moonlight serenade. The robbery. "Who 
stole my $70?" 

Act II. — John Jabe's hotel on the Fourth of July. A country 
wedding. Honeysuckle and the four rubes. "Skidoo is New York 
talk for scat." The Fairfield Road folks come to the wedding. 
Miss Dee's wedding present, a bottle of Miggins' Stomach Balm, 
good "fer every ailment in the human cistern." An unwilling 
bridegroom. Figg catches the thief— almost. The Chowder fire 
brigade. A suspicious bride with a temper Deserted on her 
weddmg morn. "We'll be as happy as two little twin cubebs." A 
double wedding and divided wedding presents. Figg recovers his 
$70. Patriotic finale: On the Fourth of July. 

"We played 'A Rustic Romeo' a few nights ago to a packed 
house. A dandy play for amateurs."— Tom Conley, Luling, Texas. 



T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers 

154 W. Randolph Street, CHICAGO 



As a Woman Thinketh 

By EDITH F. A. U. PAINTON. 

Price, 25 Cents 

Comedy of the period, 3 acts; 9 males, 7 females. Time, 2Va 
hours. Scenes: 2 interiors. Characters: Charles Weeden, just 
an every-day husband. Rev. Dunning a pastor of the past. Will 
Weeden, the son, a bit wild. Caleb Mead, Olive's husband. Jack 
Philley, Beth's old playmate. Chip, an alleged diamond in the 
rough. Jotham, the man of all work. Dr. Hume, not quite an old 
fogy. Prof. Majarajah, a Hindu lecturer on psychology. Mrs. 
Weeden, a mother of the period. Beth, Dolly and Olive, the 
Weedens' daughters. Mrs. Parker, of the modern science club. 
Mrs. Dunning, an italicized echo. Suke, the colored cook. 

SYNOPSIS. 

Act I. — RESOLUTION. Mrs. Weeden undertakes to clean up. 
The pastor reminds her of her duty. "You are responsible for 
your family." A Hindu professor of philosophy. She learns of 
her subconscious mind. Her declaration of independence. 

Act II. — REVOLUTION. The campaign opened. The family 
learn of virtues they were unaware of possessing. "Papa, what 
ails her?" "Is she crazy?" The professor helps "drive the nail." 
According to your faith. 

Act III. — EVOLUTION. The pastor comes to investigate. "It's 
a miracle." A happy home grows out of existing chaos. A humor- 
ous turn of affairs. Duped by an imposter. "Whoever he was, he 
was a Hindu to me." A renewed honeymoon. "As a woman think- 
eth in her heart." 

A Southern Cinderella 

By WALTER BEN HARE. 

Price, 25 Cents 

Comedy drama in 3 acts; 7 females. Tim.e, 2 hours. Scene: 
1 interior. Characters: Madame Charteris, an old aristocrat. Enid 
Bellamy, * a Southern Cinderella. Rosie Winterberry, a famous 
settlement worker. Miss Johnnie Bell Randolph, a little coquette. 
Katherine Hawke, an English nurse. Caroline Hawke, her sis- 
ter, an adventuress. Mammy Judy Johnson, a black blue -grass 
widow. 

SYNOPSIS. 

Act I. — The two Hawkes have their daily quarrel. "Dis yere 
bein' a widow woman is powerful lonesome." "The cream-col- 
ored pick ob de unplucked colored aristocracy.'^ A mission of 
mercy. Madame refuses to receive her grandchild. Love con- 
quers pride and Enid comes home. 

Act II. — The plotting of the Hawkes. Madame makes a new 
will. Mammy Jv;dy deserted at the altar. "Ober 'leben dollars 
spent and not eben one cream-colored kiss." The death of Mad- 
ame. The burning of the will. "The Charteris fortune belongs 
to me." „ 

Act III.^Katherine and her Paris creation. "Take some of 
dat tail-fixin' and put it ober your shoulders." Enid mistreated. 
A will turns up. A Southern Cinderella comes into her own and 
goes to the ball. 



T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers 

154 W. Randolph Street, CHICAGO 



DENISON'S ACTING PLAYS 

Price 15 Cents Each, Postpaid, Unless Different Price Is Given 



M. F. 

Documentary Evidence, 25 min. 1 1 

Dude in a Cyclone, 20 min.... 4 2 

Family Strike, 20 min 3 3 

First-Class Hotel, 20 min 4 

For Love and Honor, 20 min.. 2 1 

Fudge and a Burglar, IS min.. 5 
Fun in a Photograph Gallery, 

30 min .. 6 10 

Great Doughnut Corporation, 

30 min 3 5 

Great Medical Dispensary, 30 m. 6 
Great Pumpkin Case, 30 min.. 12 

Hans Von Smash, 30 min.... 4 3 

Happy Pair, 25 min I 1 

I'm Not Mesilf at All, 25 min. 3 2 
Initiating a Granger, 25 min.. 8 

Irish Linen Peddler, 40 min... 3 3 

Is the Editor In? 20 min... 4 2 

Kansas Immigrants, 20 min... 5 1 

Men Not Wanted, 30 min 8 

Mike Donovan's Courtship, 15 m. 1 3 

Mother Goose's Goslings, 30 m. 7 9 

Mrs. Carver's Fancy Ball, 40 m. 4 3 
Mrs. Stubbins' Book Agent, 30 

min 3 2 

My Lord in Livery, 1 hr.... 4 3 

My Neighbor's Wife, 45 min.. 3 3 

My Turn Next, 45 min 4 3 

My Wife's Relations, 1 hr 4 6 

Not a Man in the House, 40 m. 5 

Obstinate Family, 40 min 3 3 

Only Cold Tea. 20 min...... 3 3 

Outwitting the Colonel, 25 min. 3 2 

Pair of Lunatics, 20 min 1 1 

Patsy O'Wang, 35 min 4 3 

Pat, the Apothecary, 35 min.. 6 2 

Persecuted Dutchman, 30 min. 6 3 

Regular Fix, 35 min 6 4 

Rough Diamond, 40 min 4 3 

Second Childhood, 15 min.... 2 2 

Smith, the Aviator, 40 min... 2 3 

Taking Father's Place, 30 min. 5 3 

Taming a Tiger, 30 min 3 

That Rascal Pat, 30 min 3 2 

Those Red Envelopes, 25 min. 4 4 
Too Much of a Good Thing, 45 

min. 3 6 

Treasure from Egypt, 45 min. 4 1 

Turn Him Out, 35 min 3 2 

Two Aunts and a Photo, 20 m. 4 

Two Bonnycastles, 45 min.... 3 3 
Two Gentlemen in a Fix, 15 m. 2 

Two Ghosts in White, 20 min . . 8 

Two of a Kind, 40 min 2 3 

Uncle Dick's Mistake, 20 min.. 3 2 

Wanted a Correspondent, 45 m. 4 4 

Wanted a Hero, 20 min 1 1 

Which Will He Marry? 20 min. 2 8 

Who Is Who? 40 min 3 2 

Wide Enough for Two, 45 min. 5 2 

Wrong Baby, 25 min 8 

Yankee Peddler, 1 hr 7 3 



VAUDEVILLE SKETCHES, MON- 
OLOGUES, ETHIOPIAN PLAYS. 

M. F. 

Ax'in' Her Father, 25 min 2 3 

Booster Club of Blackville, 25 m.lO 

Breakfast Food for Two, 20 m. 1 1 

Cold Finish, 15 min 2 1 

Coon Creek Courtship, 15 min. 1 1 

Coming Champion, 20 min.... 2 
Coontown Thirteen Club, 25 m.l4 

Counterfeit Bills, 20 min 1 1 

Doings of a Dude, 20 min.... 2 1 

Dutch Cocktail, 20 min 2 

Five Minutes from Yell Col- 
lege, 15 min.. 2 

For Reform, 20 min 4 

Fresh Timothy Hay, 20 min.. 2 1 

Glickman, the Glazier, 25 min. 1 1 

Handy Andy (Negro), 12 min. 2 

Her Hero, 20 min 1 1 

Hey, Rube ! 1 5 min 1 

Home Run, 15 min 1 1 

Hot Air, 25 min 2 1 

Jumbo Jum, 30 min 4 3 

Little Red School House, 20 m. 4 

Love and Lather, 35 min 3 2 

Marriage and After, 10 min.. 1 

'Mischievous Nigger, 25 min.. 4 2 

Mistaken Miss, 20 min. 1 1 

Mr. and Mrs. Fido, 20 min 1 1 

Mr. Badger's Uppers, 40 min. 4 2 

One Sweetheart for Two, 20 m. 2 

Oshkosh Next Week, 20 min . . 4 

Oyster Stew, 10 min o.. 2 

Pete Yansen's Gurl's Moder, 10 

min 1 

Pickles for Two, 15 min 2 

Pooh Bah of Peacetown, 35 min. 2 2 

Prof. Black's Funnygraph, 15 m. 6 

Recruiting Office, 15 min 2 

Sham Doctor, 10 min 4 2 

Si and I, 15 min 1 

Special Sale, 15 min 2 

Stage Struck Darky, 10 min., 2 1 

Sunny Son of Italy, 15 min.. 1 

Time Table, 20 min 1 1 

Tramp and the Actress, 20 min. 1 1 

Troubled by Ghosts, 10 min... 4 

Troubles of Rozinski, 15 min.. 1 

Two Jay Detectives, 15 min.. 3 

Umbrella Mender, 15 min.... 2 
Uncle Bill at the Vaudeville, 

15 min 1 

Uncle Jeff, 25 min 5 2 

Who Gits de Reward? 30 min. 5 1 



A great number of 

Standard and Amateur Plays 

not found here are listed in 

Denlson's Catalogue 



T.S.DENISON&COIVIPANY,Publishers.154W.RandolphSt., Chicago 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



POPULAR ENTERTAIN 

Price, Illustrated Paper Cove 




TN this Series 
are found 
books touching 
every feature 
in the enter- 
tainment field. 
Finely made, 
good paper, 
clear print and 
each book has 
an attractive 
individual cov- 
er design. 

DIALOGUES 

All Sorts of Dialogues. 

Selected, fine for older pupils. 
Catchy Comic Dialogues. 

Very celver; for young people. 
Children's Comic Dialogues. 

From six to eleven years of age. 
Dialogues for District Schools. 

For country schools. 
Dialogues from Dickens. 

Thirteen selections. 
The Friday Afternoon Dialogues. 

Over 50,000 copies sold. 
From Tots to Teensr 

Dialogues and recitations. 
Humorous Homespun Dialogues. 

For older ones. 
Little People's Plays. 

From 7 to 13 years of age. 
Lively Dialogues. 

For all ages; mostly humorous. 
Merry Little Dialogues. 

Thirty-eight original selections. 
When the Lessons are Over. 

Dialogues, drills, plays. 
Wide Awake Dialogues. 

Brand new, original, successful. 

SPEAKERS, MONOLOGUES 

Choice Pieces for Little People. 

A child's speaker. 
The Comic Entertainer. 

Recitations, monologues, dialogues. 
Dialect Readings. 

Irish, Dutch, Negro, Scotch, etc. 
The Favorite Speaker. 

Choice prose and poetry. 
The Friday Afternoon Speaker. 

For pupils of all ages. 
Humorous Monologues. 

Particularly for ladies. 
Monologues for Young Folks. 

Clever, humorous, original. 
Monologues Grave and Gay. 

Dramatic and humorous. 
The Patriotic Speaker. 

Master thoughts of master minds. 




017 401 



The 

For reading or speaking. 
Pomes ov the Peepul,. 

Wit, humor, satire, funny poems. 
Scrap- Book Recitations. 

Choice collectioniS, pathetic, hu- 
morous, descriptive, prose, 
poetry, 14 Nos., per No. 25c, 

DRILLS 

The Best Drill Book. 

Very popular drills and marches. 
The Favorite Book of Drills. 

Drills that sparkle with originality. 
Little Plays With Drills. 

For children frorn 6 to 11 years. 
The Surprise Drill Book. 

Fresh, novel, drills and marches. 

SPECIALTIES 

The Boys' Entertainer. 

Monologues, dialogues, drills. 
Children's Party Book. 

Plans, invitations, decorations, 
games. 
The Days We Celebrate. 

Entertainments for all the holidays. 
Good Things for Christmas. 

Recitations, dialogues, drills. 
Good Things for Thanksgiving. 

A gem of a book. 
Little Folks" Budget. 

Easy pieces to speak, songs. 
One Hundred Entertainments. 

New parlor diversions, socials. 
Patriotic Celebrations. 

Great variety of material. 
Pranks and Pastimes. 

Parlor games for children. 
Private Theatricals. 

How to put on plays. 
Shadow Pictures, Pantomimes, 

Charades, and how to prepare. 
Tableaux and Scenic Readings. 

New and novel; for all ages. 
Twinkling Fingers and Sway- 
ing Figures. For little tots, 
Yuletide Entertainments. 

A choice Christmas collection. 

MINSTRELS, JOKES 

Black American Joker. 

Minstrels' and end men s gags. 
A Bundle of Burnt Cork Comedy. 

Monologues, stump speeches, etc. 
Laughland, via the Ha-Ha 

Route. 

A merry trip for fun tourists. 
Negro Minstrels. 

All about the business. 
The New Jolly Jester. 

Funny stories, jokes, ga gs, etc. 

Large Illustrated Catalogue Free 



T.S.DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers,154 W.Randolph St., Chicago 



